


Stronger as a Seraph

by christmas_hamlet



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Angst, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christmas_hamlet/pseuds/christmas_hamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikleo doesn't blame himself... but he kind of does. He's dealing with it. (A look into Mikleo's psyche following Sorey's departure through his return.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rose and Her Thorns

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I have written in, like, six years. Zesty struck a chord with me somehow. Sorey doesn't actually appear until later chapters, though, sorry friends.

It had been quite a while since Mikleo had spoken to anybody, and even longer since he had spoken to anybody about Sorey. He had holed himself up in Sorey’s house ever since he had returned from Camlann, emerging only to explain to his fellow seraphim (albeit poorly) what had happened. He wasn’t used to mourning - the only person he had ever known long enough to mourn was Maisen, and that was quickly followed by the journey, which kept his mind off of it almost entirely.

  
But, now…

Now he had nobody to turn to for comfort. Nothing to act as a distraction. There wasn’t any need for him to bother dragging himself out of Sorey’s bed. He didn’t have to eat, after all, and since he no longer needed to cook for any human companions, the effort of actually preparing a meal seemed too great to bother.

  
He glanced over to where his and Sorey’s travel packs still sat by the fireplace, haphazardly thrown there upon his return and since untouched. He wasn’t sure how many days it had been since he had come back to Elysia - it could have been weeks, he had no idea. He figured he should probably start unpacking and putting things away; what exactly is the shelf life of an apple gel anyway? Slowly finding the strength to push himself out of his blanket cocoon, he wandered achingly over and kneeled down in front of his own bag. It was easy enough to unpack, and in a few minutes he was back by the fireplace, staring down at the other bag.

  
He had never gone through Sorey’s belongings, never needed to. They trusted each other enough to where hiding things wasn’t necessary. But, as he bent down to unlatch the pack he was suddenly struck with a strange mixture of guilt and curiosity. He flicked it open gingerly and peered down into… a garbage dump. Did Sorey ever clean this thing out? He pulled out wrapper after mabo curry bun wrapper, a half-drunk “holy” water bottle, a peach gel with a bite taken out of it. These things he set off to the side as a reminder to throw them out later. He came face to face with the Celestial Record and a wave of anger washed over him. If it hadn’t been for this book, he would have never hoped to one day travel the world with Sorey. That would never have been his dream. He wouldn’t feel so violently empty and lost without it. He chucked the book over by the book shelf and watched it fall open, spilling his and Sorey’s handwritten notes across the floor. He felt guilty after that, knew that Sorey would not tolerate the book being treated so badly, but he was still bitter, so he figured he would leave it there for now.

  
Mikleo closed the now-empty pack and moved to untie the travel blanket from where it was rolled up. He took the small bundle and padded back to the bedroom, letting it unroll slightly as he walked. He took two corners in his hands with the intent of spreading it over the bed, but something made him stop dead. He brought the wrinkled cloth up to his nose hesitantly before inhaling slightly, and suddenly his heart felt like it had been clawed out by the Lord of Calamity. It still, painfully, wonderfully, smelled like Sorey. Somehow, in this moment, he managed to miss his childhood friend even more than before.

  
Instead of laying the blanket over the bed he wrapped it around his shoulders before collapsing into the bed himself. If he closed his eyes he could pretend instead that it was Sorey wrapped around him, sprawled across the bed as he slept and snoring gently. He could pretend that the journey had never happened, they had never argued about Mikleo fighting at his side, had never witnessed Dezel’s death, had never learned about their own origins - none of it. Surrounded by Sorey’s scent, he could pretend that they had just come back from a particularly long adventure through the Mt. Mabinogio Ruins.

  
Them finding out all kinds of cool stuff about the Age of Asgard and the (completely irrelevant) Shepherd’s story. Sorey announcing that he was feeling too lazy for a bath and insisting on taking a nap first despite how badly they both smelled. Mikleo half-heartedly protesting but instantly succumbing to the warmth that was Sorey hugging him from behind and dragging him onto the bed. Sleeping next to him in the same way they had since they were children.

  
But it wasn’t like that anymore.

  
Instead Mikleo found himself staring hollowly at the wall across from him, buried in Sorey’s blanket, heart physically aching in a way that couldn’t be healthy. He suddenly found himself gasping for breath, feeling like he had just run up and down the mountain despite being sedentary for most of the morning. His heart was beating so quickly it made him nauseous. He curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling the blanket over his head, begging everything to just be over already. Inside his cocoon his breathing became even more labored and light-headedness crept over him. He felt like he was dying. He felt like Sorey was dying. He felt like he would rather the world being overtaken by malevolence, if only he could have Sorey back. There should have been a better solution. An easier solution. But nothing about being the Shepherd - or his Sub Lord - was supposed to be easy. He wished desperately that it could have been.

  
Time passed. Mikleo knew only because there would be a knock at his door every morning, one of the seraphim asking him if he was okay, which he wouldn’t answer. But it never failed to return, day after day. He mostly spent his days in bed, getting up only to relieve himself or fetch a book that he would inevitably stop paying attention to and toss onto the ground with the rest of them. There were now more books piled next to his bed than there were on the shelf. He had read them dozens of times before, never losing interest, but now the sight of them just made him ache.

  
He was lying in bed, half-conscious, mind wandering, when a particularly sharp knock at the door startled him. He couldn’t muster the energy to glare at it, though, simply rolled over onto his stomach and ignored it. The next knock sounded like it could punch right through his door. Maybe it was an emergency? He had a duty to protect his fellow Elysians, after all. He couldn’t think of anything too drastic, though, what with the Lord of Calamity being quelled and Maotelus peacefully sleeping once again. But another knock prompted him to raise his head briefly.

  
“What? Is something wrong?” he called out, voice cracking from disuse.

“Yes something’s wrong, you asshole! How long have you been hiding yourself away in there?”

Oh, right; Rose. As he rolled out of bed and made his way to the door he absently wondered if the others had come with her. He was not really sure he wanted to see anybody right now, but if Rose had come alone he couldn’t just send her away after all that trouble.

A scowl that was somehow the perfect mix of anger and concern greeted him on the other side of the door. Rose took one glance and him and winced.

“You reek,” she said bluntly.

Mikleo frowned, “Thanks. If that’s all I’m going to go back to bed now.”

Rose pushed her way past him and into the main room, taking in the disheveled state and layers of dust piling up. She looked at Mikleo again, scanning him up and down. “You know, you kind of look like a walking corpse, Meebo. Have you eaten anything? Hell, have you seen any daylight?”

Mikleo closed the door quietly and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know I don’t have to eat, Rose,” was all the response he gave. Rose’s concern deepened.

“Wait, you really haven’t been outside? All this time? We all thought you were just taking a rest in Elysia, we didn’t know you were becoming a hermit! We figured-”

A groan escaped Mikleo and immediately made him feel rude. “Wait, who is this ‘we’ you’re talking about? Is everyone else here too?” Rose looked at him and shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak again but he stopped her. “Look, I appreciate the obvious effort it took to come here, and that you’re so concerned, but I’m fine. Honest.”

“Like hell you’re fine, Mikleo! People who are fine don’t lock themselves away for months! People who are fine don’t ignore their friends and family!” She paused and looked around again. “People who are fine don’t… live like this.” With that she gestured to the fallen stacks of books by the bed and the ever-growing layers of dust on the bare shelves. She approached Mikleo slowly, as she would approach an injured animal. Mikleo took offence - he was no animal.

He cringed when her hand landed on his shoulder and made him jump.

“Look, Mikleo, I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you. I know what you’re going to say, that you’re fine, or you’ve been busy, but I also know that that is a lie. Mikleo…” She took a deep breath and let it out, “It's okay to not be okay.” She gave him a small, reassuring smile, and he immediately tore his eyes away from hers.

No matter how sincere, her words felt patronizing. He hated being treated like a child, but at the same time he did feel somewhat childish. The group had always mocked him and Sorey for being innocent, but now he was the only one left. He hated how small and weak it made him feel. Hated how truly, desperately alone it made him feel. Rose’s quiet voice calling his name pulled him away from his thoughts.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, more sharply than he intended. But he didn’t take it back, apologising would just show that he was weak. He had to be strong - for Sorey’s sake, for Gramps’ memory, for the rest of the party. “I’m an adult, I can handle a little bit a grief.” He turned on his heel and made his way back towards the bedroom, not inviting Rose to follow but not having the energy to tell her to go away.

“Mikleo, you’re barely an adult. Hell, you’re practically a toddler in Seraphim years, aren’t you? I know I’m not that much older than you, but I’ve had a lot of experience with this kind of thing. Do you think I like killing people? Do you think I don’t grieve for them, for their families?” An arm on Mikleo’s shoulder spun him around to face her.

“For the sake of my sanity, for the sake of not falling victim to malevolence, I had to learn to cope. This is not a healthy way to cope, Mikleo. You’re smart, you have to know that for yourself, don’t you?”

How could he have possibly known that for himself? He spent the entirety of his life up in Elysia, never having to deal with death or loss or anything of the sort. That was a thing that he and Sorey were supposed to learn together. Sure, he grieved for many people during their journey, was sorry for their suffering and did everything that he could to help, but this… In a span of a few hours he had lost both Gramps and Sorey, whom he alone had spent the previous 18 years in constant contact with. How could Rose expect him to open up to the rest of the group like he had with Sorey?

He suddenly realized that he couldn’t be angry with her. Numbness had crept up into his heart and wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon. He even had the urge to roll his eyes at her concern and effort. She was trying her best, he knew that, and she was making good points, too, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. A long silence stretched out between the two of them. Mikleo refused to be the one to break it.

After a while, Rose sighed. “I’ll leave you be for now, but next time I come, I’m coming back with reinforcements, so be prepared!” She cuffed him on the shoulder gently and gave him a weak smile before turning away and leaving him alone in the house once again.

Mikleo flopped back against the bed, strangely unshaken. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, knows it's cruel and that the others are hurting too, but he can’t help but be selfish. Can’t help thinking that it wouldn’t have had to end this way if he was stronger. Can’t help blaming himself.

His whole body feels leaden. With tremendous effort he clutches a corner of Sorey’s blanket and brings it down heavily across his body. He curls in on himself again, a favorite position of late, and ignores the stinging in his eyes in favor of succumbing to a fitful sleep.


	2. Spring Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: //brief// mention of past suicidal tendencies, not explicit.

It has been 15 centuries since Sorey went to sleep. The humans have long since forgotten the importance of the seraphim and the Shepherd. Lailah has vanished from Lady Lake, Uno and the Normin as well, leaving it vulnerable to malevolence like never before. The population expanded to the edge of the Aroundight Forest before the humans bulldozed their way right up to Elysia’s entrance. No longer under Gramps’ domain, Elysia has become a breeding ground for seraphim-hellions. The Hyland humans and Elysian hellions clash viciously on a nightly basis. The humans blame the Rolance Empire, and have subsequently started a war not only with their continental neighbors, but with countries across the oceans as well.

Mikleo became fed up with it long ago. When the first human dared cross the threshold into Elysia, he lost it, erupting into a dragon and charring the man till his bones turned to ashes. 

 

After that he took up residence in the Rayfalk Spiritcrest, using Eiven’s old nesting grounds as his own. A small-looking blonde girl and a tall, shirtless man with a hat once came to the summit with the intent to quell him or kill him - he ate them. The waters of the world are no longer pure. The air is dense with malevolence even in the holiest of places. Human and seraphim alike succumb to disease, famine, and greed in the blink of an eye. Suddenly Mikleo feels the earth shake and quiver underneath him. He tastes a foul stench in the air - one of purity and faith.

 

A man approaches him, white cloak billowing out behind him, a pained expression on his face. He opens his mouth to speak. Mikleo bites his head off, tearing the shoulders and upper torso with it.

 

“SOREY!” Mikleo shouts, bolting upright in bed and panting hard. He shivers when a cool breeze finds its way down his spine, and grimaces when he realizes he is covered in sweat. He takes a moment to steady himself before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to ground himself on the rough floor. The room is dark, but he boarded up the windows long ago, so he has no way of telling whether it is actually day or night. When he finds that his breathing has calmed, he pushes himself off the bed and strips the sheets so he can wash them. Laying around in damp sheets has never been a favorite activity of his, anyway. 

He carries the sheets in a bundle to the washing tub and drops them in, filling the tub with water and fetching soap from a cabinet. He briefly acknowledges a knock at the door, the same knock he has been listening to for months now. Except this time it is followed with a soft but strong, “Hey Mickey-boy, open up.”

 

Mikleo drops the entire box of soap into the basin. He curses, sticks his hand in the tub to fish out the soaked cardboard, and glances around at the state of his living establishment. It had been a few weeks since Rose’s sudden arrival and departure, and in that short span of time his situation had… well, it had depleted significantly, if he was being honest with himself. He had stopped bothering to heat the place or periodically air it out, and the air inside had become stale and frigid. The walls had taken on a sheen of constant dampness - a side-effect of his frequent nightmares. Despite his not needing to eat, he had lost a considerable amount of weight and was most certainly malnourished and pale, something that Zaveid would definitely notice. He briefly noted that the mabo curry bun wrappers and peach gel still sat in a pile on the floor.

 

Sighing, Mikleo sets the soap box down on the table near the wash bin and heads towards the door, steeling himself with a breath before opening it. He is greeted immediately by the scent of crisp pine trees hidden under musky cologne as Zaveid wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a crushing hug, forcefully burying his face against his bare chest.

 

When his grip loosens and Mikleo is finally able to pull away he does so forcefully and clenches his fists, prepared to shout at the man about personal space, before he looks up at him and notices his expression. 

 

“What’s that look for?” he quips, folding his arms over his chest and staring down at his feet.

 

Zaveid schools his expression immediately, opting instead for a grin, and claps Mikleo on the back. “There’s my Mikboy! Haven’t seen you in a while! The ladies have missed you, kid - and you know it isn’t nice to keep ladies waiting.” When Mikleo doesn’t respond he continues into the room, looking around much like Rose had - although he refrains from commenting on the disaster. Mikleo notices this with a twinge of irritation but doesn’t have enough energy to argue about it. He is about to ask Zaveid how long he plans to stand there when a much higher-pitched voice calls his name from behind him. Its Lailah - he’s doomed.

 

Lailah always asked the group to think of her more as a sister than as a mom, but he, Rose, and Sorey had always felt that her love for them was motherly. It wasn’t an insult, but Lailah always joked that it brought too much attention to her age. Rose seeing his dilapidated living area was one thing, Zaveid’s opinion wasn’t very important to him, but Lailah…

 

Mikleo fought the urge to turn around and slam the door shut. Instead he gave a sidelong glance at Zaveid, who was looking into the wash basin, and resigned to accept his fate in the comfort of his bed, sheets or no sheets.

 

He heard Lailah gasp when she came in and elected to ignore it, focusing on making himself one with the circular mattress. Lailah and Zaveid talked in hushed tones but it didn’t matter - Mikleo knew they were judging him. For his house, for his “lack of coping skills” as Rose had put it, for anything and everything, really. And he deserved it. He knew he was a wreck, it was obvious. It was why he had locked himself up in the first place. He was lost in his thoughts when he felt the dull tip of an umbrella press into his shoulder blade but didn’t respond.

 

The umbrella was then brought down sharply against his lower back and he jerked up groggily. 

 

“Hey!” he shouted, turning his head to glare at the culprit. Edna put a finger to her lips, signaling him to shush. She waved her hand at him and he scooted over on the bed, more than a little confused and slightly scared that she planned to crush him to death so she could move on with her own life. Instead she sat next to him quietly, back straight against the wall behind her and legs stretched out in front of her. Mikleo awkwardly picked himself up so that he was sitting next to her, mirroring her pose. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Mikleo spoke.

 

“...Where did Lailah and Zaveid go?” he asked quietly.

 

“I suppose you must feel a lot like how I felt when Eizen first became a dragon,” she supplied instead of an answer, and Mikleo pressed his lips together. He wanted to look at her but he wasn’t sure he could meet her eyes. He stared at the hem of her dress instead. 

 

“Because, well, it's not like Sorey is dead, but also, when he comes back, he won’t be the same Sorey that you knew. Eizen wasn’t Eizen anymore but… he was at least there, I guess. And he knew who I was for a little while, he didn’t attack me. Anyway…” she trailed off, seemingly thinking of what to say next. Mikleo waited in silence, afraid that he would upset her if he cut in.

 

“You get to live with the idea that he is doing something good and pure. I had to live with the fact that my brother had become the worst kind of hellion there was. But you have to miss Sorey, whereas I had to face Eizen every day...” She interlocked her fingers in her lap, tapping her thumbs against one another. “It’s pretty safe to say I have an idea of what you’re going through,” she moved a hand to Mikleo’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “You can’t do this kind of thing to yourself. It will destroy you.”

 

Mikleo flinched, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, previous spell cast by Edna’s speech broken. 

 

“It’s not like I’m doing this for fun or something,” he mumbled.

 

“So why are you doing it?”

 

“I… what do you mean why? I just told you I’m not doing it on purpose!” he found himself gritting his teeth together, annoyed that Edna claimed to know how he felt but obviously didn’t if she had asked him a thing like that. He heard her hum beside him.

 

“I was just making sure you weren’t doing this to yourself as some kind of punishment. What happened to Sorey wasn’t your fault, you know. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It was just something that had to happen.” With that she pushed herself off the bed and headed for the door while Mikleo quickly processed her words.

 

“Edna,” he said, then paused, “What happened to Eizen… that wasn’t your fault either.”

 

She looked as if she was going to turn and face him, but sighed and remained with her back towards him. “Come on,” she breathed, “Lailah wants to see you outside.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

When Mikleo emerged from the house into the sun he immediately needed to squint and throw his hand up to shade his eyes, briefly causing him to question just how long he had been in the dark. Lailah looked up from where she was talking to some of the other seraphim and ran over to him, hesitating in front of him before pulling him into a hug similar to Zaveid’s. His head was pillowed against her breasts, but it felt more comforting than embarrassing. She smelled like cinnamon and campfire smoke and he closed his eyes as he breathed her in. In the next moment she stepped away, holding him at arm’s length with a strange expression on her face. Mikleo realized he probably stank.

 

“You haven’t been taken care of yourself.” An observation of fact, not a question. She gently moved his bangs out of his eyes, pausing to run her thumb over the area where his circlet used to rest. He had abandoned it in a pile with his staff and anything else that reminded him of Sorey. He stared at her neck, refusing to make eye contact. 

 

“Will you let me help you?”

 

The question caught him off guard, but he wasn’t really sure why. He knew that when you were sad you were supposed to go to your friends for support, but he hadn’t felt sad after the first week of Sorey being gone, he just felt numb. He hadn’t ever read anything that told him what to do if he felt numb. He just accepted it as something he would have to deal with. And that’s what he had been doing: dealing with it. And someone was offering to help him instead of just telling him that he had to help himself. It frustrated him, he hadn’t known had to “help himself,” that’s why he was struggling in the first place, wasn’t it? But now… 

 

Tears pricked at his eyes and suddenly he was crying and he didn’t know why. Lailah took his hand and led him away gently, motioning at Zaveid hastily as they walked and Mikleo wondered why but was more concerned with his own strange behavior. He had shoved the desire to cry down for months and with a simple question Lailah had managed to bring everything to the surface. He brought his sleeve up to wipe at his nose and sniffled loudly, making Lailah pause and look back at him.

 

“Sorry.” he mumbled, taking their momentary halt as a chance to wipe at his eyes with his other hand, which he freed from Lailah’s grasp gently. Lailah didn’t reply, simply fixed his hair again before cupping his face gently and once again taking his hand, continuing to walk away from the gathering of people in Elysia.

 

After a few more minutes Mikleo managed to pull himself together enough to ask where they were going. “You stink,” Lailah giggled, “We’re going to clean you up.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze and said no more, but Mikleo stared at the back of her head in confusion.

 

“You know I have a tub, right?” he asked.

 

“You know that your tub is full of bed sheets?” she responded without missing a beat. Mikleo sputtered.

 

“I can take the sheets out of the tub!” he stopped walking, causing Lailah to tug gently on his arm before coming to a stop herself. “And I can wash myself, too,” he murmured. 

 

Lailah turned to look at him and let out a short but happy laugh. “Don’t be silly, why waste all that soap and water just to dump it out? And besides, you’ve been inside for too long. Bathing in nature is good for the soul, especially for a water seraph! You need a boost.” She tugged him along again, a little faster, and soon they came across the slow-moving river that he and Sorey used to spend hot summer days splashing around in. His train of thought began to wander again before Lailah commanded his attention by tugging at his shirt. He looked at her, gaze wavering, unsure. 

 

“I swear this will help. Cross my heart. The first step to a clean and healthy mind is a clean and healthy body!”

 

Before long Mikleo found himself seated on a particularly flat rock in the middle of the river, a towel draping over his waist as if he were in a sauna. Lailah had changed as well, laying her long coat over a nearby tree, and was standing behind Mikleo in the simple white dress she wore underneath. The water running over Mikleo’s ankles was freezing, but when Lailah moved to pour a bucket of it over his head it was comfortably warm. She went about washing his hair, each gentle pass of her fingers seeming to allow more tears to fall from violet eyes. When she finished with his hair she moved around to his front, gathering a cloth into her hand and dipping it into the water, bringing it up to scrub gently at the tracks of tears that stained his face. She wiped his forehead and scrubbed at his nose, taking in his chapped lips and sunken eyes with a heavy heart. 

 

Mikleo had closed his eyes. She poked his nose endearingly and was pleased when he managed a small smile. She moved on to his neck, where she stopped dead.

 

A harsh red line greeted her there, sharply contrasting the milky smoothness that was the rest of his skin. She swallowed thickly and whispered, “Oh, Mikleo. I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. We all should have been there for you.”

 

Oops. He had almost forgotten about that, since it was usually covered by his collar. He didn’t want to worry her any more than he already had - which must have been quite a bit, considering she had rounded up the gang and sought him out. So…

 

“...It’s okay,” he replied after a while, “You were all dealing with it too. I just… dealt with it worse, I guess.” He remembered the time that he and Sorey had found a novel in a chamber of the ruins they had just discovered. It had been some kind of romance novel - or so they had thought - but really it was just tragic. One of the men had lost his lover in a terrible accident, and had tied a rope around his neck and hung it from a rafter in the attic. Looking back at his own incident now, Mikleo was embarrassed of how melodramatic it seemed. Sorey wasn’t actually dead, after all. But at the time, he really wasn’t sure if he could live without Sorey by his side.

 

Thankfully Lailah let it go, although she did spend a good amount of time gently rubbing at the scar with the cloth, as if hoping she could clean it off and wipe it away. 

 

By the time they were done, Mikleo decided that it felt nice to be pampered after all this time of neglecting himself. It didn’t make him feel childish - it made him feel needed. While Lailah prepared herself to walk back to the village Mikleo let himself feel the water rushing over his feet for the first time since Sorey had gone to sleep. He let himself be enveloped in his element, let himself cherish it and let it cherish him in return. He thought of the fun that he and Sorey had had in this very river, and labeled it in his mind as a healing spot. Enough of Sorey to know that he was still there, but not enough to overwhelm him and make him miss him. He joins Lailah on the bank and she presents him with fresh clothes, which she must have taken from his house because he recognizes them. He changes and they make their way back to Elysia together.

 

“Lailah…” he pipes up before they cross the threshold of trees and become visible again.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I… Thank you,” he manages. It's not enough, but it will have to do for now.

 

Lailah merely smiles at him and ruffles his now-clean hair before slipping her hand around his elbow and moving them back towards the house.

______________________________________________________________________________

 

When he and Lailah made it back to his house he noticed that the other Elysian seraphim had retreated back into their own homes, something that he was incredibly grateful for. Rose, Edna, and Zaveid were gathered at the foot of the steps, Rose and Zaveid chattering excitedly and Edna listening with an amused smile. When he was within reach Rose threw her arm around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze before turning to look at him.

 

“Are you ready?” she asked, eyes twinkling with hope and excitement.

 

His response was delayed. “Er, ready for what?”

 

“Ready to go! Come on, we’re all going out to purify as many hellions as we can! We’re also going to check on Alisha and Sergei’s progress with the treaty between Hyland and Rolance. And, well, I have to complete the trials of the Shepherd, too,” she finished more quietly, worried about hurting his feelings by being overexcited. 

 

And she was right to be worried. Thinking about completing the trials again, so shortly after Sorey had done so, with practically the same group of people… felt like betrayal. Rose sensed his discomfort and put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Hey, I really want you to come with us, but I understand if becoming my Sub Lord would… not work for you. I’m sure we could find another water seraph to come with us, Uno, even-”

 

“No!” Mikleo cut her off, then coughed and regained his composure, “No, no, I’ll do it. Uno is busy blessing Lady Lake, after all. Just… let me get ready before we go.”

 

He pulled away from her and went up the steps to his door, pulling it open and suddenly realizing why Lailah had been gesturing to Zaveid before they had left. The books that he had piled near his bed were once again lined neatly in the bookshelves, and someone had even taken the time to order them chronologically. The sheets that had been crumpled in the tub were hanging in front of the fire to dry and a fresh set had been lain across the bed, Sorey’s travel blanket folded neatly at the foot. The wood had been torn off the windows, which were all open, letting in a fresh-smelling breeze. Rose bounded up behind him and threw her arms around him again, face split by a wide grin.

 

“It shouldn’t take you very long to get ready! I even took the liberty of packing for you! And your place needed a face lift anyway, no need to thank me.” She made her way over to the bookshelves and pulled the Celestial Record from one, eyeing it in her hands before turning to look at Mikleo again. “Did you… do you mind if I bring this with us?”

 

“Actually, I, uh…” his voice caught, surprising him, and he lowered it to a whisper, “I’d rather you didn’t.” He refused to look up and meet her gaze, afraid of the pity or anger he might see there. He found himself absent-mindedly rubbing at his throat, a rollercoaster of feelings flying through his mind as he struggled to control his reaction. He hadn’t touched the thing in months, why did it matter? It was just a book, he told himself, just a book. That Sorey had given him that night in Lastonbell before… 

 

He shook his head, and when he looked back up Rose was placing it back upon the shelf carefully, saying something about how they can always borrow a copy from Alisha. Mikleo nodded and looked around, noticing his bag, now packed full, leaning against the table. He also noticed that his companions were all staring at him with varying looks of pity. Panic very suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. He had been staying here, away from conflict, away from other people, away from anything having to do with hellions or the Shepherd, and now he was expected to join the next Shepherd and start all over again. He briefly wondered if Rose would disappear when they had managed to quell the last of the hellions, or if her human lifespan would kill her beforehand. She had experienced over a quarter of her life already, after all. Compared to her, he felt as though he really would live forever. 

 

That brought his mind back to Sorey. When he did finally awaken, would his human body have rotted away? Would he be born as a seraph, or would the gods take pity on him and send his soul to the afterlife? If he did become a seraph, would he even want to know Mikleo anymore? Wouldn’t Mikleo represent a life that he had forgotten? He could never ask Sorey to stay with him if Sorey didn’t want to anymore. What if the world was never free of malevolence? What if - he thought back to his dream, panic rising - what if he really did become a dragon? What if he killed everyone he had ever loved?

 

He suddenly found that the world around him was swimming. He fell to his knees, one hand clutching the table, the other gripping at his shirt. Vaguely he noted that his companions were buzzing around him, saying words to him, but they didn’t register. His breath quickened to the point where he was gasping for air, dark spots forming in his field of vision. He feared that he might pass out before he felt strong arms wrap around him from behind and pull him back against a broad chest, encouraging his lungs to open up again. Zaveid was shushing him and rubbing a warm hand against his biceps - not even making crude jokes like Mikleo would have expected him to. When he came back to himself he saw Lailah in his peripheral vision but couldn’t find Rose or Edna.

 

Immediately he was embarrassed and nearly shot out of Zaveid’s arms, leaning heavily against the table to catch himself when he became lightheaded. Lailah’s hand gripped his wrist to steady him and Mikleo felt Zaveid stand up behind him, mumbling, “Hey, calm down or you’re gonna have another one.”

 

The second Mikleo was breathing normally he decided to pretend like nothing had happened. He bent down to scoop up his travel pack, not bothering to check its contents, took one last sweeping look around and turned on his heel to head for the door. His hands shook when he reached for the knob but he swallowed thickly and forced himself over the threshold, leaving a pair of very confused seraphim behind him.  

 

Edna and Rose were waiting outside and looked up at him when he emerged. He nodded to them in a way that he hoped conveyed either “I’m fine,” or “Don’t ask me about it.” Either one would do. Lailah came outside after putting out the fire and Zaveid followed her out, shutting the door behind him. There was an awkward pause where they all looked at one another, unsure if they should press the subject of Mikleo’s wellbeing or move on. It was Mikleo who finally got them to all start walking, afraid that if he lingered any longer he would change his mind. He told himself he was doing the right thing - and, even if he was doing the wrong thing, he was doing it for Sorey, so that made it right in his book. He paused at the village gates to tell a seraph that he was leaving, and with that the group was off once again. 

 

The party picked their way through the growth in the Aroundight Forest and Mikleo trailed slightly behind. He couldn’t help thinking about how, only months prior, he and Sorey had set off down this very same trail by themselves, complete strangers to people Mikleo could now call his friends. He thought about how Rose was the first person they had met outside of Elysia, just some merchant whose carriage had broken down on the bridge. He glanced up at her now - Sorey’s Shepherd successor. He believed in her, of course, but he also worried about the toll being the Shepherd would take on her, especially since she had known her predecessor personally. He thought about her true name, gifted to her by Sorey: Wilkis Wilks. “Rose Is Rose.” Somehow it seemed so accurate despite its simplicity - and the fact that Sorey had made it up on the spot in the middle of a battle. 

 

Even though going on this new journey felt like betrayal… he knew that Sorey wouldn’t see it that way. Sorey would understand, and he would be happy that Mikleo didn’t spend the next few centuries locked up in his house. 

  
He still missed him greatly, wasn’t sure he would ever be able to miss him any less. But… at least now they could all miss him together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this over two weeks ago and because of that I'm not entirely sure what portion of the story it actually contains, besides Lailah being the mom-friend. I love her. I love all of these children.


	3. To Ladylake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll I'm so sorry it took me this long to update, I got hit with midterms and projects all at once. Also, sorry, this chapter is a little shorter than the last, I'm still trying to figure out my word count to chapter ratio.

By the time they reached the opening to the plains, Mikleo found himself to be in a much better mood. He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed everybody, and the constant chatter kept his mind off of Sorey easily. 

 

Rose had graciously decided to fill him in on everything that had happened while he was in Elysia, beginning with her becoming the new Shepherd. Since Sorey had been carrying the Shepherd’s sword when he had fought the Lord of Calamity and fallen asleep, the special abilities afforded to it had to be transferred to another object for another Shepherd to appear. While Rose and the others had been recuperating in Lady Lake, they had heard word of a strange power that had appeared in the Plitzerback Wetlands. That was the extent of their information, however, because anybody who tried to approach the strange force was pushed back. Before setting off, Rose insisted that they have Mikleo join them, and so she made her way to Elysia while the others prepared to set off. 

 

“And, well you know all about that part,” Rose had said to him over her shoulder as they walked. When he looked up and caught her eye, she was smiling at him.

 

“Yeah yeah,” he sighed, and smiled back at her. She grinned and continued her story.

 

After she had left Elysia with the promise to return, the gang had set out for the Rolance Empire. The two countries may not have been at war anymore, but tensions were still high, and Alisha and Sergei were attending meetings every single day, travelling from town to town to speak with different elders and officials. They passed through Glaivend Basin, where human scholars and conspiracy theorists alike were examining the site of the Dragon’s appearance. Some insisted that the dragon’s image was a trick by the Shepherd to force the opposing armies to cooperate, and that Alisha and Sergei had worked with him in order to fulfill their desire for power and rule over a new country, the combination of Hyland and Rolance. Others were there to worship the ground that the dragon had stood on, seeing it as a sign from the gods - although they could not agree on what the sign was supposed to mean. 

 

They had encountered a lot of hellions along the way, but since they no longer had the power of purification, they did quite a bit of running away. When they finally made it to the Wetlands, a man was standing at the entrance, warning curious humans to refrain from entering. He insisted that the strange power was capable of creating a new Lord of Calamity, and that if someone were to enter, the Shepherd’s sacrifice would mean nothing. Rose, curious, asked the man why he thought that, and he replied, “I do not believe that the land is pure. Anyone who holds such power as is roaming about in there will no doubt wreck havoc upon the land.”

 

“No, Shepherd Sorey quelled the Lord of Calamity and is risking his life to purify the land, you must have faith in him. Can’t you see that the majority of the darkness is already gone?” Rose had argued back.

 

The man had simply tilted his head and replied, “Shepherd Sorey?” before Rose pushed past him and entered the Wetlands. 

 

The force in question was indeed strong, but none of the seraphim sensed any malevolence coming from it. It was Lailah who first realized what is was, and warned Rose of the duties of the Shepherd just as she had warned Sorey - except Rose already knew that this was what she was supposed to do. She had been Sorey’s squire, after all, this just seemed like the logical next step. Plus, if she could purify some hellions and speed up Maotelus’ sleep, then she would do whatever it took. 

 

There was a brief argument over who would be the Prime Lord, with Lailah suggesting herself because of her experience, but the others insisting she shouldn’t push herself so hard, having just recently had her contract with Sorey forcefully broken. In the end, it wasn’t even any of them who decided - as Rose pushed her way through the bright, cold barrier that separated the Shepherd’s token from the outside world, it was unmistakable who her Prime Lord would be.

 

In the center of the cold whirlwind were two short daggers wedged deeply into the ground, connected to each other by a string that glowed green with energy, and Rose once again felt a familiar presence hovering over her.

 

And so that was how Zaveid, with firm and repeated instructions from Lailah, became the Prime Lord for Shepherd Rose. When she passed the preaching man on her way out she made sure to nod and wave at him politely as she gestured to the now-absent power barrier. The man stared at her, mouth agape, jaw dropping even further when her body was suddenly hauled into the air and draped over some invisible object that carried her away towards Lohgrin. 

 

After her fever had subsided they set out to purify nearby hellions, starting with those in places connected to the Zaphgott Moore, before starting their journey back to Elysia to check on Mikleo. On the way they stopped in Pendrago to check in on Alisha and Sergei’s peace negotiations. 

 

Rose’s storytelling flow faltered and she put her hands on her hips, her face growing concentrated with thought. “To put it shortly, I guess,” she began, “Neither empire wants to budge on their positions, and the people don’t, either. Rolance is still irked about Hyland using the Shepherd to win the first battle, and they blame the dragon incident on Hyland, too. They did lose quite a few troops in a pretty short amount of time, so they aren’t exactly unjustified. Hyland, on the other hand, refuse to cooperate with a country that had so much corruption so high up in the ranks. Ironic considering their dear old Lady Maltran was a hellion, but who am I to judge.”

 

“All these stupid humans want to do is fight all the time,” Edna piped up, “They don’t even have to know why they are fighting, they just jump at the chance.”

 

Lailah hummed, indicating that she was listening and agreed, but with less blunt wording than Edna had used. 

 

“But, after our time in Pendrago we decided it was definitely time to pay you a visit. And now here we are!” Rose said contentedly, stretching her arms above her head.

 

They had taken a break by the waterfall which hid the Water Temple’s entrance. Mikleo had mentioned that he would rather not go first and the others had obliged, but it was still a nice place to stop and rest. Mikleo felt bad that they would have to travel all the way back here when the rest of the Trials were in Rolance, but his companions insisted it was okay, and that they would have to come back to visit Alisha in Lady Lake anyway. He had made them ice cream as an apology, which they were eating on a rock by the river. Mikleo had taken off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and waded into the water. 

 

He stood a little ways away from the waterfall, facing it. He thought back to their struggle of completing the trial and laughed to himself as he recalled Sorey rushing through the corridors with excitement, only to be caught by an Eye and transported back to the beginning. The look on his face the first time was sheer terror, but by the fifth or sixth time his face was a mask of irritation and childlike frustration. He remembered Rose grabbing him by his collar and threatening him with something terrible if he kept getting them sent all the way back to the beginning. Sorey had looked sheepish, but Mikleo could tell that he was still enjoying himself immensely. When they had entered the first corridor again he had looked Rose directly in the eye before purposefully stepping in front of the first Eye. Rose had screamed.

 

He also thought about how useful he had felt during the trial, able to use his powers to hide them from the traps. The first time they made it past Sorey had turned to him with sheer joy plastered across his face, whisper-shouting “That was so cool Mikleo!” and pulling him into a strong hug. Mikleo had blushed and crossed his arms, mumbling about how it was no big deal, but Sorey had laid his hand firmly on Mikleo’s shoulder, leaning down and opening his mouth to say something before they heard the sounds of hellions approaching and prepared for battle. 

 

Back in the present day, Mikleo wondered what he was going to say.

 

A shout brought his attention back to his companions and he whipped around to make sure they were alright, but deflated immediately when he saw Lailah sprawled in the river and Rose standing above her, laughing. Lailah’s hand shot up and grabbed Rose’s wrist, dragging her face first into the water with her. When Rose emerged, propping herself on her hands and knees, she slowly turned to face Lailah before spitting a mouthful of water at her. The two began a water battle, Zaveid joining in on Lailah’s side, Rose yelling “Traitor!” before turning to Edna and begging her to join. Edna said something about not wanting to ruin her boots. 

 

Rose turned, looked at Mikleo, and shouted “Luzrov Rulay!” and suddenly Mikleo found himself helping her knock back Lailah and Zaveid into the deeper center of the river. After being caught in a particularly large deluge, Lailah help up a white handkerchief in surrender, and Mikleo felt himself laughing for the first time in a long time. He was laughing so hard when he and Rose de-armatized that he doubled over and fell on his hands and knees in the water. Rose looked stunned for a moment before joining him, bending over and bracing herself with a hand on his shoulder. They quieted after a couple of minutes and looked up to see Lailah and Zaveid, dripping wet, trying to dry themselves off with their respective elements, glaring at the two still laughing in the river. The small smiles they couldn’t keep off their faces gave them away though, and Mikleo had an idea. He stood up and looked at Rose, whose grin mirrored his own, before shouting “Maelstrom!”.

 

They heard Edna’s indignant yell and Lailah’s shriek as they were engulfed in the waves and collapsed back into fits of laughter. They were wiping tears out of their eyes when a shout caused them to look up again, the three seraphim looking suddenly ready for a duel to the death. Mikleo grabbed Rose’s wrist and started running downstream, their companions chasing behind them. When they stopped to catch their breath, calling a truce with the other three, Mikleo looked over at Rose again and found that she was looking at him already. She punched him in the shoulder, then pulled him into a strong side-hug and used her free hand to muss up his hair. Mikleo squawked and tried to pull away, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. 

  
He had really missed hanging out with everyone. He was glad he had decided to join them.


	4. Master Mikleo

Rose had been very successful as a Shepherd, quelling most of the rampant hellions in both the Kingdom of Hyland and the Rolance Empire. She had retired from her Shepherdly duties when she turned 50, but only because so many new Shepherd-eligible people had appeared. She decided that they could have their turn in the limelight, as she put it.

 

After she retired she spent most of her time in Lady Lake with Alisha, who had shot up through the line of succession for the crown and became Queen after her successful peace negotiations with Rolance (and the sudden outpouring of information regarding scandals in the higher-ups, which Rose will claim she had nothing to do with). During this time Mikleo remained around Lady Lake as well, joining Uno in the back rooms of the sanctuary on a daily basis and teaching the new Shepherds about their duties, their histories, and any other thing Mikleo deemed important. This had been going on for about ten years.

 

One day while Mikleo was standing at the front of a small group of trainees the door beside him burst open with impressive force. He turned to glare at the intrusion as Rose strolled into the room, old Shepherd’s cloak thrown over her shoulders and daggers at the ready. The students went into a frenzy, bouncing back and forth between excited and terrified, watching with wide eyes as Rose stalked around them, seeming to stare into each of their souls.

 

“Rose-” Mikleo started, but she shushed him.

 

“I’m checking their purity! These kids can’t call themselves the Shepherd if I can sense any malevolence on them!”

 

One of the girls in the back row went pale, a few other students started sweating. Mikleo sighed, “She can’t really check you guys for purity. If anyone should be checked for purity, it's probably her.”

 

Rose whirled around to face him at that, face a perfect rendition of shocked offense. Mikleo smirked at her, then turned back to the group gathered at his feet. “As many of you already know, this is Rose, our previous Shepherd,” he paused when he saw some of the kids bow their heads to her, others glancing around frantically and following suit. Rose grinned at him and he smiled as she threw her arm around his shoulder.

 

“Hey, if you’re gonna bow to anyone, it should be this guy. He was with Shepherd Sorey for his entire life! And he was with me for my entire time as a Shepherd too! Isn’t that amazing!” The students started chattering excitedly again and Mikleo cleared his throat to get their attention.

 

“If you don’t mind, we are going to get back to the lesson for today.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

Mikleo really enjoyed spending time with the Shepherd trainees, but some days were more exhausting than others. The kids were a variety of ages, ranging from a particularly feisty six year-old (whose older brother was also in training), to a 20 year-old college dropout who, the first time he saw seraphim, thought he was high. Mikleo was in limbo, 60 years older than any of his students but just as young-looking as them, desiring their respect but also wanting to be a friend to them. It was strange, watching Rose and Alisha grow older while he, Lailah, Edna, and Zaveid barely changed. He often checked his face for wrinkles, but the only change he ever noticed was that his hair grew longer. 

 

He was startled out of his thoughts by a sharp tug on his coat, looking down and locking eyes with a girl he knew as Presea, one of his students. 

 

“Master Mickeo,” she spit out, and Mikleo noticed that she was missing both of her front teeth. He kneeled down so that he was eye-level with her and she excitedly bowed her head before bouncing on her heels and standing up straight again. She poked the center of Mikleo’s circlet and he blinked, tilting his head at her.

 

“Master Mickeo, my momma said that if I study real hard I could be like Sephurd Shorey, but I said I wanted to be like Master Mickeo! Can I be like Master Mickeo?” Her green eyes searched his face, brimming with hope. Mikleo smiled at her.

 

“Well, if you become a Shepherd, then you can, uh, join with a water seraph like me and then you could control water, too. Is that what you mean?”

 

Presea shook her head almost violently, “No, I mean, I want to be as strong as Master Mickeo!” her eyes became sad and she looked at her feet. “My big sister went to live with the gods recently. Master Mickeo has been waiting for Sephurd Shorey for forty years, so if I can be as strong as Master Mickeo, I’ll be able to wait to see my shishter again!”

 

Mikleo was stunned, mouth slightly open from his attempt to form a response. After a moment he simply nodded and pulled the girl in for a hug so that she wouldn’t see his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. When he pulled away the girl shouted a quick goodbye and ran off towards the suburban part of town, leaving Mikleo standing silently outside the sanctuary. People passed by him, unaware of his presence, and he began to make his way back to Alisha’s home, where he was staying. 

 

When he entered the kitchen he was greeted with an incredibly familiar smell, and after slipping off his shoes and wandering inside he found Lailah standing over the stove, long hair pulled up into a bun and coat discarded over a kitchen chair.

 

“Oh, hey Lailah, when did you get here?” Mikleo asked as he took off his own coat and slung it over hers. Despite her being the infamous “Lady of the Lake,” she had taken some time away to be with Edna, who, now that Eizen no longer inhabited the Spiritcrest, had taken up residence in Attak’s art museum in Marlind. 

 

“Edna and I came in a couple hours ago, and Zaveid should be in town tonight! It’s Alisha’s birthday, after all. Didn’t you remember?” she said without turning to look at him, focused on her stew.

 

“Oh, er, oops,” he rubbed the back of his neck, flinching slightly when his fingers brushed over the scarred skin there. He had thought that it would heal faster than this, but for some reason the stubborn redness remained. “How old is she now?”

 

Lailah threw a hand back and smacked him, “It isn’t very nice to ask about a lady’s age, Mikleo!” Mikleo smiled and apologized and Lailah continued talking. “How is training going? It’s so strange that there are so many students! A good kind of strange, though.”

 

Mikleo nodded, “Yeah, to be honest, I think a lot of them don’t actually have resonance. They never answer questions or even bother to make eye contact, I’m not really sure why they are there. But if they can develop their skills they would certainly be useful, so I can’t really complain.” He paused and thought back to his strange interaction with Presea earlier, but decided it was nothing he needed to talk to Lailah about. 

 

He decided to retire to his room until dinner time and soon found himself sitting at his desk, journal in one hand and half-written draft of his book in the other. The journals he mostly kept for Sorey, although it was also somewhat of a childhood habit. He wrote down even the insignificant things that he knew Sorey would want to know about when he woke up, like the time Rose pretended to break her leg just so Zaveid would carry her back to the town because she was feeling lazy and didn’t want to walk. 

 

The book, while also kind of for Sorey, was more about of a biography about him and his journey. Mikleo had started writing it a few years after Sorey had gone to sleep, afraid of forgetting something important about his journey but also out of the desire to see Sorey get more recognition. He had only been the Shepherd for a few months, but he was the Shepherd that pulled humanity out of the Age of Chaos, and he was so young when he did it too, he deserved more than the verbal praise that Rose could give him (though she certainly praised him often). At first he had elected to speak of himself only scarcely, like when he would mention the specific seraphim whom Sorey had travelled with, but Edna had threatened him with physical violence if he gave himself such minor attention. 

 

He had finished with Sorey’s portion of the story a long time ago, but continued to draft out chapters of Rose’s story as things happened. Since most humans still couldn’t see seraphim he figured attempting to publish the book at this point would be useless anyway, and he wanted to make sure that Rose’s section was as complete and accurate as Sorey’s had been. 

 

Setting the book aside, he turned to the journal and flipped open to the next blank page. He almost felt bad that Sorey would have to sift through all the junk and random footnotes that he jotted down, but he didn’t really think Sorey would mind. He wrote about Presea. She was only seven, but had been born with the ability to see seraphim. She and her family had lived in Lady Lake her entire life. One night when Mikleo was leaning against the wall of the bridge, taking a break from his messy schedule, he heard the tapping of footsteps from the city gates and hushed voices. When they came close enough he could make out the shapes of two girls, the smaller one (whom he now knew as Presea) clinging to the hand of the taller one.

They hadn’t seemed to be in any kind of danger, but they were crouched low and muffling their voices in an attempt to hide from something. Mikleo watched them draw closer until the smaller one suddenly stopped and stared at him. He had smiled at her and waved, and she had brought her hand up to wave back before the other girl was tugging on her hand again, whispering, “What are you stopping for all of a sudden? Come on, do you want to go exploring or not!” and they took off once again down the bridge.

 

The next time Mikleo saw her was during one of his walks to Lady Maltran’s grave with Alisha. A plague had sprung up around Lady Lake and Rose and the others had gone to find the source and purify it, but Mikleo remained in town with Alisha in order to heal her if she happened to contract the sickness herself. The plague was particularly brutal, but not worse than the one in Marlind had been. The unfortunate thing about it was the specificity of the targets, all young girls under 30 years old.

 

As he and Alisha had made their way through the graveyard to the nobles section, Mikleo noticed a funeral procession. The two decided to pay their respects to the deceased and their family. When they joined the rear of the small crowd, Mikleo felt a small hand reach up and grab at his own. Startled, he looked down and was met with the face of the girl from the bridge, eyes glossed over with the pain of loss, face red and puffy from crying. He looked around for the other girl he had seen that night before the realization dawned on him and he paled, taking his hand from the little girl’s and placing it on her head instead, gently stroking through her blonde hair as he stared at the coffin in front of him being lowered into the ground.

 

A few months later he was entering the classroom-dedicated portion of the sanctuary when he was startled by a sudden weight latching itself onto his hip. It was the girl again, eyes bright and face smiling this time. She detached herself from him and said, “My name is Presea,” before taking a seat among the rest of his students.

______________________________________________________________________________

 

A loud, echoing voice shook him out of his writing daze. “Where’s my Mick-boy?” it boomed, “I haven’t seen him in ages!”

 

“It’s only been a couple years,” Mikleo said as he rounded the corner, crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the door frame.

 

Zaveid pulled him in for a hug and shoved him back just as forcefully, grinning as he said, “Yeah, but look what a couple of years does to ya! Look at all this hair!” He ruffled the top of Mikleo’s head and Mikleo groaned in response, rolling his eyes.

“Shut up, you old windbag,” came Edna’s response from the other room. Mikleo heard Rose and Alisha laughing and Zaveid rushed through the door to go defend himself.

Lailah half-turned and shouted, “Hey! Dinner's almost ready you guys, don’t go killing each other before you taste my stew!” She turned to Mikleo and smiled softly, but Mikleo detected a hint of sadness in it. He was about to ask about it when she cut him off, saying, “Oh, will you help me set the table? I know the others won’t bother to help out now that they’re already bickering.” Mikleo nodded and glanced back towards the commotion in  the other room before gathering up dishes in his hand and setting them out.

______________________________________________________________________________

Rose was turning 70 this year. Mikleo wasn’t sure what the longest lifespan of a human was, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t very much longer than 70 years. She wasn’t unhealthy, per se, but her movements had slowed down immensely and sometimes she wobbled when she walked too fast. She didn’t let this stop her from bothering Mikleo in the sanctuary, though. In fact, she attended class with him almost every single day, except for the days when her feet bothered her so much that standing for any amount of time left a grimace on her face. On those days Mikleo offered to carry her to class with him, but she stubbornly refused. Mikleo would remind her of the times she’d faked illnesses in order to be carried, and she would laugh, but there was always a sadness in her eyes that Mikleo wouldn’t comment on.

Today, however, Rose was feeling particularly agile, practically bouncing next to Mikleo on their way to the sanctuary. Mikleo almost wanted to ask why her spirits were so high, but quickly realized how insensitive that would sound. Again he thought about his aging body compared to Rose’s. Where she had withered slightly and become frail, he had grown into himself, still lithe but no longer lanky and awkward. Rose had started insisting that he tie his hair back, despite it barely being as long as hers, which, he pointed out, she had always let bounce around her even when they had been fighting.

Other than that he really hadn’t changed very much. Sometimes he caught Rose staring at him and wondered if maybe she was jealous or wanted to be young again, but she would always find something to tease him about the second the thought went through his head, like a flyaway hair or that his jacket was mis-buttoned. 

Upon entering the sanctuary he saw Abel, the oldest of his prior group of students, whom he had asked to assist him in teaching now that the classes were slowly growing. The man had half of his body hanging out of the door to the back room, his face and chest hidden from view behind it. Mikleo squinted at him and tapped him on the back when he came into arm’s reach. 

“What are you doing?”

Abel jumped. “Mikleo! I was just, er-”

Mikleo waved him off, “Never mind, just let me through.” Abel squeaked at him and slammed the door shut instead, causing Mikleo to stare at him in irritated confusion. Rose barked out a laugh and he turned to stare at her as well, “What the hell? What is going on?”

Rose laughed, “They were supposed to have this all finished last night, but it looks like somebody,” she turned to smirk at Abel, “didn’t listen to me like he should have.” Abel had the decency to look sheepish but Mikleo just continued staring at them with confusion.

Before Mikleo could once again ask what the hell was going on, Presea poked her head out from the door. “Oh! Master Mikleo, you’re right on time!” She opened the door completely and motioned for the three of them to slide past her into the back room. Mikleo searched her face for anything that would betray what this was all about, but the girl was all smiles. When he crossed the threshold it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light, but it took his brain longer to adjust to just what he saw before him.

On the back wall there was a crudely made banner, “Happy Anniversary Shepherd Sorey” scribbled out and “Thank You Shepherd Sorey” written underneath it instead. On the chalkboard someone had scrawled “50 Years of Purity - Thank You Sorey,” and had filled in the space around it with a sub-par drawing of what Mikleo assumed must be Sorey. There were balloons and ribbons everywhere, and someone had actually made a cake. Mikleo fought back both the urge to vomit and the desire to turn tail and run out of Lady Lake completely. A firm slap on his back brought his attention back to Rose, who was grinning.

“Fifty whole years since your boy saved our asses! The kids and I thought it would be fun to celebrate!” she told him briefly before breezing past him on her way over to the cake. He swallowed in an attempt to combat his dry throat, to no avail. Presea came up to him next, her earlier excitement dampened by clear concern in her eyes. 

“Master Mikleo?” she waved a hand in front of his face, gently demanding him to look at her, “Is something wrong? Do you not like it?”

The obvious sadness in her voice made Mikleo feel even worse. He shook his head forcefully, partially to convince her that nothing was wrong and partially to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming. And really, it could have easily just been a strange, strange dream, with two dozen people roaming around in Shepherd’s cloaks and talking about Sorey. “There’s nothing wrong. I- I like it, I really do. Thank you, excuse me.” He patted her on the shoulder as he brushed by her, quickly maneuvering towards Uno and informing him that he would be skipping lessons today, whenever they actually take place. Uno nodded to him and Mikleo made his way through the far doors, down into the depths of the sanctuary where they had once fought Medusa.

He hadn’t felt a wave of panic like this one since the year following Sorey’s departure, and it both startled and confused him. Had it really been fifty years? And after fifty years, why was he still having these feelings welling up inside him? He felt like he was eighteen again, curled up in Sorey’s travel blanket and purposefully ignoring the world. He felt nauseous and heavy, and shucked off his overcoat, letting it drop unceremoniously to the floor. He walked further into the vast room on shaky legs, stopping at the edge of a small fountain which had stopped functioning years ago, but still held water. The cool surface felt comforting on his fingertips and he submerged both of his hands entirely, breathing in long, controlled breaths. His neck burned underneath his high-collared undershirt and he tore it off, splashing water onto his throat immediately.

Silly. He felt silly. He had had fifty years to develop an identity outside of Sorey - and he had, he was a successful Sub Lord to Rose and a teacher to future Shepherds. Plus, it’s not like he was defined by Sorey when he had been around. But even after all this time, the thought of someone actually celebrating Sorey’s unconsciousness… made him sick. He still selfishly wished that Sorey was here with him now, even if that meant that the malevolence would remain in Glenwood. He crossed his arms over the cool concrete base of the fountain and laid his head on them, breathing finally steadied but suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Well, he had already told Uno of his absence, and there was no way he could return to Alisha’s home without being questioned by Rose, so he figured resting here for a while couldn’t hurt…

______________________________________________________________________________

Sorey was standing next to him, body warm despite the chill in the air. Mikleo relished it, scooting closer until he was hip-to-hip with him, both of their hands folded on the railing in front of them. It was nighttime in Lastonbell, before their trip to Camlann to confront the Lord of Calamity. Mikleo had known Sorey’s plan to sleep alongside Maotelus long before the boy had actually told him, but hearing it aloud, seeing Sorey’s determined face, broke his heart. He knew it had to be done, but he also knew he would miss his best friend dearly.

As Sorey talked he moved to Mikleo’s other side, hand resting on the seraph’s shoulder momentarily before it was pulled away. Mikleo wanted desperately to put it back into place, or, better yet, to wrap it around the small of his back and pull Sorey in for a hug. But he had to be strong. He took a light jab at the other boy’s stomach instead, defty blocking Sorey’s attempt at a counter-attack. They laughed, and Mikleo opened his mouth to say something - he wasn’t sure what, he just had to say something - but was promptly cut off by the sound of the rest of their party approaching. 

They all turned to walk back to the inn, but Mikleo felt a hand tug on his wrist. He turned around and was swiftly pulled against Sorey’s chest, the other boy burying his face into Mikleo’s hair. After what seemed like both an eternity and a mere blink of the eye Sorey pulled back, but his arms were still wrapped around Mikleo. He looked up at him, and soon Sorey was closing the gap between them, tilting his head, and--

“-ster Mikleo...Master Mikleo!”

Mikleo shot up from his position slouched over the fountain, a wave of dizziness hitting him with the sudden movement. He held his hands out to either side to steady himself while his vision was momentary spattered with black spots, finally managing to blink them away and turn to the source of the voice who had woken him up. 

Presea stood there, one hand covering her mouth and the other awkwardly tucked underneath her chin, what looked to be a black cloth folded in it. Her expression was strange. Mikleo squinted at her, crossing his arms over his chest, and was about to ask what brought on her ridiculous expression when he realized he could not feel the familiar embroidery of his coat pressed against his forearms.

“Oh…” he said, a bit awkwardly, twisting his torso around in an effort to spot his undershirt, “You haven’t by any chance seen-”

He was cut off when Presea made a noise of realization and he watched her walk towards him, briskly crossing the couple of yards separating them and pointedly holding out the rumpled fabric in her left hand to him. He smiled.

“That’s exactly what I was looking for, thank you.” He pulled the shirt on over his head, and had just finished pulling it completely down when Presea spoke.

“I didn’t know seraphim could get scars.” Her voice was quiet, betrayed no hints of malice or mocking. Although the statement had stunned him, Mikleo understood that she was not trying to be rude. It was only natural for a human, and a Shepherd in training, to be curious, after all. It had been news to him, too. But it didn’t make it any easier to talk about. He swallowed.

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I said something, it must have been very thoughtless of me. Anyway, Rose sent me down here to see if you were okay. She said she hadn’t seen you since the beginning of the party, but she didn’t want to walk down all the stairs… Are you okay, Master Mikleo?”

Mikleo smiled at her, “Yes, yes I’m okay, I just needed a moment.” He paused, unsure of how to approach the next portion, “And I’m not offended by your question... but I would rather not talk about it now.” He patted her on the shoulder and walked past her, picking up his coat from the ground and shaking it out lightly. “Come on, we should go make sure Rose hasn’t gotten the new trainees wasted. She likes to think of it as some sort of initiation.”

As the two of them made their way up the stairs Mikleo couldn’t help but think of Sorey. He had always loved him - he’d grown up with him, how couldn’t he? - but his more… romantic feelings for him had developed not too long before Alisha had shown up. He had never mentioned anything to Sorey, not wanting to put an extra burden on his shoulders when he was already dealing with all the new Shepherd responsibilities. He had thought about telling him that night in Lastonbell, but he worried that Sorey would do something stupid - like kiss him - and it would make his lengthy nap that much more unbearable. Half a century should have done something to lessen his crush on him, but the way his cheeks flushed when he thought back to his dream told him otherwise. 

Shaking that particular train of thought from his head, he glanced up at Presea in front of him. Since the incident with Lailah nearly fifty years ago nobody had gone out of their way to mention his scar. Of course he couldn’t hide of from Rose for very long, who one day had seen him fidgeting with his collar and immediately demanded to see his neck so she could check for a wound or a poisonous rash. His original refusal had made Rose deem it all the more serious and eventually he relented. Her reaction upon seeing it was to look him in the eye, squeeze his shoulder roughly, and fetch a bottle of ointment out of her bag to help with the irritation. 

He had never really shown it to Edna, but he had a deep feeling that she knew. She had experienced a similar, if not worse, kind of loss, and her demeanor around him for the first couple of years seemed to suggest that she knew what he was going through. After their original chat about the subject she had dropped it, but whenever Rose or Alisha would get carried away and accidentally poke at a sore spot in Mikleo’s psyche, Edna was there in a flash, popping her umbrella open to check on him in semi-privacy before purposefully changing the subject and carrying on. Although he didn’t see her much of late, Mikleo had grown quite fond of Edna, despite all the “Meebo’s” and “Sadleo’s” occasionally thrown his way. 

As for Zaveid and Alisha… well, what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. It’s not like it was something he necessarily wanted to share in the first place, although sometimes he went through fleeting phases where he desperately wanted someone to validate his misery, however irrational, and would bring up touchy subjects just to see if anyone would ask him if he was okay. There were still times when he would spend hours in the bath, sitting there long past the time when the water had cooled, with his head in his hands. He would find himself dazed and unfocused, replaying his entire life over in his head, wondering if he could have done this or that to change the outcome. Sometimes he still thought about death, not actively, but fleetingly. Comforting thoughts that clouded his brain with their warped reasoning, “Wouldn’t it be easier to wait for Sorey if I was dead?” And of course that didn’t make any sense, but it didn’t stop him from mulling it over for hours. 

When he was hemming his clothing or cooking he would purposefully prick his finger with the needle or burn the back of his hand, just to make sure he could still feel something. He knew it didn’t help, and he knew it wasn’t healthy, but it was a way that he still made himself feel alive. For over half of his life he had been trapped in this hazy mess, knowing he needed to claw his way out but not being able to find the energy to do so. Sometimes he thought he was out, only for a few months to go by and drop him right back to where he started. 

Lailah told him that working on it was all that mattered. As long as he recognized what he was feeling, that was the first step to getting better. But he still felt bad when he asked her for advice or lazily ranted to her about whatever non-feeling he was dealing with that month. She was constantly reassuring him that she didn’t mind helping him out, but that just made him feel worse; like he was taking advantage of her kindness. Here he was, living in a world with increasing prosperity, he had had the experience of personally escorting the Shepherd on his duties, and was now part of a new generation of Shepherds, and he couldn’t even appreciate it. All these opportunities, and he mourned over a loss that wasn’t even really a loss, just a long wait.

 

He hadn’t realized Presea had stopped walking until he bumped into the back of her, lost in his thoughts as he was. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her face was full of concern - more concern that Mikleo didn’t think he deserved. He took a deep breath and let it back out slowly.

  
“Yes, I’m fine. Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the door. She nodded and opened it, and he followed her through it back into the main chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I AM THE WORST. I'm so sorry guys. With midterms, stuff I had to do for rugby, then finals and moving and starting work I just haven't had the time to write. I'm on summer vacation now, though, so I will at least try to update every other week or so.


	5. Life, Death, and In Between

Alisha passed away first; she was 86 years old, and it came out of nowhere. 

 

Mikleo, Rose, and Alisha had been eating dinner one evening when Alisha had spaced out for a few moments, only to return to the present situation with no recollection of the conversation or who had been a part of it. She excused herself to her bedroom and Rose and Mikleo followed her with their eyes as she climbed the stairs, paused at the top, and entered the wrong room.

 

The next day found Alisha bedridden and delirious. She was unable to hold a conversation for more than a few moments, and when somebody left the room and came back, she had no idea who they were. That afternoon her vision deteriorated so rapidly that she complained that someone had turned the lights off when she had blinked. By the evening her vital signs had slowed to a crawl, and Mikleo and Rose came to expect the worst.

 

Rose made sure to be by her side in the end, holding her cool hand in her own warm one, attempting to comfort her through the lump in her throat that threatened to burst. Mikleo stood in the corner of the room, arms wrapped around himself, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the once-powerful knight Alisha, now fragile and crippled and wasting away. Although she passed away with two beloved people watching her, for all she knew, she was in a strange, dark room with strange, quiet people.

 

The funeral procession was held that weekend, the entire city filing out of their houses and filling the streets to watch their Queen make her way through the city one last time. Rose insisted on walking behind her during the march, supported by Mikleo on one side and Zaveid on the other. Lailah and Edna walked behind them silently, only a few steps ahead of the knights that marked the end of the procession. The burial itself was held privately. To passerby, it would simply have looked like the Queen’s life-long friend stood over her alone - but to those more sensitive to the world, there seemed a powerful presence emanating from the vicinity. 

 

Mikleo cancelled the Shepherds’ training for the week, allowing his students and himself time to compose themselves and move forward. Late Monday night Mikleo heard a knock on his door and found Rose on the other side, eyes squinting when she wriggled her nose and muttered “You reek,” before giving him a sad smile and pulling him into a hug.

 

“How are you doing, Rose? The two of you were incredibly close…” his voice wavered and he stopped himself from finishing whatever thought had come to his mind. She held him away at arm's’ length, gripping his shoulders as much as her weakening muscles could manage.

 

“You know what, Meebo? I think I’m doing okay. Us humans don’t live forever, after all. I knew that the both of us - Alisha and I - we were getting older. It was only a matter of time. But still, everything happened so fast. Hell, this time last week we were all sitting in the garden eating icecream together! That’s just the way things go, though, isn’t it?” He nodded slightly at her, and she continued.

 

“Hey, speaking of that, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. And I know you won’t want to talk about this, so that’s why I’m not giving you a choice.” She sat on his bed and motioned for him to sit next to her, and when he did she let out a sigh that made Mikleo’s heart stop. No, no, he definitely didn’t want to hear this. But he’d be damned to try to stop Rose from saying what was on her mind, so he braced himself instead.

 

“Now, you’ve obviously noticed that I’m not so young myself, anymore. And while I’m sad that I will have to leave you so early in your life, I like to think that my own life was certainly well-lived.” She took his hands in hers, then, and looked at him with such determination that he almost laughed. “When I am gone, you had better not mope around afterwards like you did with Sorey. When I am gone, you had better not mentally ruin yourself, or blame yourself, or lock yourself away. Are you listening, Mikleo? 

 

“You have incredibly important things to offer this world. You have a whole gaggle of Shepherds that look up to you and need your guidance, and even more trainees! With each new generation that comes, more and more people can see and hear seraphim. We are one step closer to achieving your and Sorey’s dream! And you can’t go putting that in jeopardy because a human you were particularly fond of kicked the bucket.” Mikleo attempted to protest her description of herself, but she waved a hand at him. “You are going to meet and lose so many human friends in your lifetime, and humans like me are practically a dime a dozen now.”

 

She paused and stared off into space for a moment, concentrating, before pulling her attention away from the void and looking again at Mikleo’s face. “The point is, when Sorey does come back, he is going to need you - whether or not he remembers that he does. And you have to be emotionally sound for him, because sleeping through centuries of advancement has got to be one heck of a doozy, you know? And even before then, for Sorey to even be able to come back, you need to guide this flock of Shepherds and continue to quell the malevolence. No pressure, but you’re really the only one with the ability to do that. They look up to you, Mikleo. 

 

“And sure, they look up to Lailah and Edna too, and probably even Zaveid, but you - you’re the real deal. You’re the Shepherd Sorey’s best friend and lifelong companion, the person who is waiting for him to wake up. You inspire them! Long story short, whenever I die, whether it's sooner or later, you have to be prepared. I love you, Mikleo, and to leave this world without knowing whether or not you will allow yourself to carry on is something that I cannot do. I know you are strong enough, but I need to know that you know you are strong enough. Can you do that for me?”

 

Mikleo’s throat felt tight but he nodded. Of course he had known that one day his human companions would pass away, but it had felt like it was so far into the future. But now that Alisha had departed so suddenly, Mikleo feared that Rose my pass in the same way as well, and he wouldn’t even be able to tell her goodbye. He refused to tell her goodbye now, because saying goodbye meant that she was leaving - and she said she wasn’t planning on going anywhere just yet. But he still worried. Sure, he could tell Rose that he knew he was strong enough, but was he really? He had taken the loss of Sorey so harshly, and Sorey wasn’t even dead, just sleeping.

 

He felt his mind wandering down this all familiar path and shook his head sharply. Rose’s eyes met his and all he saw in them was hope and confidence. He was almost ashamed to be given such a look, as though he didn’t deserve it, but he pushed the thought from his mind and smiled back at her, grasping both of her hands in his and bowing his head slightly. She laughed and gently cuffed him behind his ear.

 

Whenever Rose was gone, he was certainly going to miss her.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

A cold breeze met Mikleo as he exited the Noble’s section of Lady Lake, letting the gate click shut gently behind him. If he looked up he could see the stars, illuminating the velvet black night, but his eyes were focused firmly in front of him. 

 

He made his way swiftly down the stairs, shoes clicking evenly on the stone below. He glanced at the water wheel as he passed, noting how it had slowed over the years. A thin sheet of ice was forming on the surface of the water; if the sky was not as clear, there could very well have been snow. Mikleo could see his breath when he sighed, inhaling the sharp air again before letting it out slowly. He continued on his way, passing over the bridge that led to Lakehaven Heights and slowly heading up the hill. When he reached the waterfall that hid the entrance to the Shepherd’s Trial of Water he sat down slowly and removed his shoes, staring at the hems of his pants for a moment before deciding he didn’t care whether or not they got wet. 

 

The water was freezing. He submerged one entire foot, then the other, welcoming the shock to his system that accompanied the stark temperature change. He closed his eyes and let out another deep breath while he decided his next course of action.

 

Rose had passed away. Mikleo had been beside her. They had both known it was coming, and it wasn’t nearly as tragic as Alisha’s own passing. Rose had been growing sick in her advancing age, had been staying in bed more, attending classes less - it was really only a matter of time. And besides, she had lived to the age of 78. For a Shepherd, especially one who had undergone so much stress, that was remarkable. Previously, after a Shepherd’s duty was finished they would simply vanish - but Rose got to live out her entire life. 

 

At least, that’s what Mikleo was repeatedly telling himself.

 

Even in her dying state she had the presence of mind to remind Mikleo about what she had said. She had smiled at him, eyes crinkling to the point that they were practically closed, and said, “I’m proud of you, Mikleo.” She took a deep breath, let it out… and never took another one. Somehow, Mikleo found himself smiling. It was going to be one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, but he’s going to keep his word - he’s not going to bottle up his emotions and lock himself away for months. But, if he needs a little time to himself right now, well, who can blame him?

 

He finds himself undoing his overcoat, shrugging it off and tossing it back onto dry land, undershirt following closely behind. He looks down at the submerged hem of his pants and grumbles to himself before sliding them off as well and padding over to a nearby boulder to lay them on to dry. A breeze cuts across him from the falls behind him and he shivers, partially thinks that maybe he would rather just go back to Lady Lake and go to sleep, but he nudges the thought aside, somewhat afraid that if he returns to his bedroom too soon he would never leave.

 

Instead he turns on his heel and splashes gently towards the fall, braces himself momentarily, and steps underneath the ice-like sheet of water. His initial reaction is to pull back but he forces himself to remain under the steady stream. He focuses on the feeling of the water rushing down his skin, hair standing on end and goosebumps forming in its wake; focuses on connecting with his element. He is reminded of the shallow river in Elysia where he and Sorey would play, and where Lailah helped piece him back together after his departure. He lets his mind turn to Rose. It feels like he could close his eyes and open them to her face, twenty-two years old and split into a huge, plotting grin. He can almost hear her whispering her plan into his ear, acting as though she was organizing an attack for the Scattered Bones when all she really wanted to do was pull a prank on Zaveid. Then she’s sitting in the back of his classroom, laughing as she terrorizes unsuspecting students with blatant lies and glamorized stories of a Shepherd’s duties. Her laughter grew quieter with age, throat worn from constant use combined with the strain of her attempting to maintain its loud and powerful voice. She, Alisha, and Mikleo sitting at a small table in the garden, both women smiling tiredly after a long day with the Shepherd trainee’s, glad to be home and enjoying tea…

 

He lets his train of thought stop there. That is how he wanted to remember Rose - youthful, happy, and somewhat of a pain in his ass. Sure, she had maintained her personality throughout her old age, but after Alisha died, it was never the same. He wanted to remember the both of them as they were when he first met them - as they were when he was with Sorey. 

 

He took to washing himself instead of thinking, focusing on the mind-numbing routine of it, enjoying the feeling of running his fingers through his hair - which was now quite a bit longer than before. His body had become very different to him, almost foreign in a way that he had never paid attention to before. Others would tell him how he was growing, but he guessed he never saw it for himself because it was so gradual compared to the humans growing up around him. He was nearly 80 years old and he could still probably be mistaken for an 18 year-old human. Meanwhile his first class of Shepherds were all adults; Abel was nearing 50 years and had a family and children of his own. Presea was 25 - older than Rose had been when he had met her. The whole idea of it was strange; it made him wonder if Presea would stop respecting him if she realized just how young of a seraph he truly was. Some of his more recent recruits already doubted his credibility. He wondered if more people being able to see seraphim also meant less people respecting them. 

 

Rose had said that he would gain and lose many human friends over the course of his own lifetime, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that. Losing Rose and Alisha was emotionally devastating, and he couldn’t imagine going through that with every new generation of Shepherds. He wondered how Lailah managed it. Edna had avoided contact with the humans for centuries and Zaveid… well, he wasn’t very sure what Zaveid had been doing but whatever it was, it seemed more to do with other seraphim than humans. 

 

The thought reminded him that they would be in Lady Lake the next day to pay their respects to their friend. They would also be staying for an undefined amount of time to both keep an eye on Mikleo and assist with his Shepherd training program. Mikleo soon found that his thoughts began to wander: lesson plans, field training, how the seraphim would spend their time in Lady Lake, how he would keep Zaveid away from the sauna, if he would ever make another pact with a Shepherd, if he would stay in Lady Lake until Sorey woke up… 

 

He was distracted from his thoughts by a warm feeling on his back, which he suddenly realized was the sun. Startled, he practically jumped out from underneath the waterfall and onto the river bank, shaking himself dry and snatching his clothes in one fluid motion. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

As he made his way back through the main gate to the city he nodded to a small group of guards, two of which nodded in return. The five of them were standing in a straight line, backs against the cool stone of the bridge, their black uniforms starkly contrasting the clear, sparkling blue of the lake behind them. Four of them held flags - one for the continent of Glenwood, one for the country of Hyland, one for the city of Lady Lake, and another for the Shepherd. The fifth held a stack of pamphlets, which Mikleo assumed to be programs of the day’s activities. Rose had made Mikleo promise that when she died she wouldn’t have a sad, solemn funeral - instead, she wanted a celebration of her life. And so, with the help of the priests who ran the sanctuary, Alisha’s living relatives in the palace, and Rose’s own ability to pull strings even after death, that summer day became known as the Rose Petal Festival. 

Upon entering the city Mikleo was greeted with the pleasant scent of roses; a scent that was being both artificially pumped into the air via misters and emanating from the hundreds upon hundreds of bouquets that lined the city streets. Flags of the Shepherd hung from every window, mirroring the day long ago when Sorey first pulled the Sacred Sword out of the altar. It was a bittersweet sight, one that made Mikleo smile despite the pain in his heart. Children in mock Shepherd’s cloaks ran excitedly through the streets, their friends tagging along behind calling out bizarre names and pretending to wield the powers of the seraphim. 

Mikleo made his way slowly through the cobbled streets, stopping to greet children who waved at him as well as old and current students who offered him their condolences. He ran into Abel and his family in the sanctuary, offering their prayers for Rose’s happiness in front of the altar. After they had finished Abel stood and turned to greet his companion and co-teacher. The man was older now himself - only two years away from 60. His hair had long since thinned and paled, and while his mind was still sharp from teaching, his body had taken on a bony appearance that made Mikleo sad. His eyes were rimmed red with suppressed tears.

“Abel, you know how upset Rose would be if she knew you were crying over her,” Mikleo said with a soft smile.

With that, the restraint that Abel had maintained throughout the morning vanished, and he excused himself to the back rooms. Mikleo excused himself as well, bowing slightly before Abel’s wife and following her husband through the chamber door. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Mikleo said after hearing the door click shut behind him, “It’s just that Rose would have wanted-”

“I am going to die soon myself,” Abel whispered back at him, fingers grazing gently over a piece of chalk that had been left on a table. Mikleo didn’t know how to respond, so he waited. “First Lady Alisha, and now the Shepherd Rose? I was never a very good Shepherd myself. I decided I wanted a family instead, and a simple life assisting you with the next generation of Shepherds…” He paused and turned to face Mikleo.

“Who is going to remember me?” He asked quietly. 

Mikleo was stunned. He had never had such a serious conversation with Abel before. He supposed it hadn’t occurred to him - that humans would worry about being forgotten - because he had never forgotten anyone himself. He remembered each person they hadn’t been able to save on all of their journies. He had written their names down just for that purpose. 

“Abel… I’ll remember you. Your family will remember you. Each and every Shepherd that you taught will remember you. Don’t worry about being lost in history and forgotten in death. I… I have practically eternal life, after all. So as long as I remember-”

“And that’s just it, isn’t it?” Abel barked.

“W-what’s just it?” Mikleo asked, taken aback by the sudden intensity. 

“You! You get to live forever, where’s the fairness in that? Just because you were born a seraph and I was born a weak, measly human, you’re somehow more worthy of life than I am? That’s ridiculous!” Abel coughed, as if punctuating his point about his aging body. Mikleo, once again, didn’t know what to say. 

He could tell him that he wasn’t born a seraph. He could inform him that a long life is hardly something to be jealous of. That he had never and would never have a real family, that despite his closeness to Gramps all those years, and to his friends now, they would never have the kind of bond that he was able to have with his children. He wanted to tell him just how much, years ago, he had wished for death himself, how jealous he had been of humans, who were allowed to end their sufferings after less than a century. Instead, through all his inner turmoil, out came, “I’m sorry.”

When it was clear that the conversation had ended, Mikleo retreated into the depths of the sanctuary, much like he had when he was first confronted with Sorey’s “Anniversary” party. He had promised Rose he wouldn’t hide himself away, but this wasn’t that. This was just taking a moment to collect his thoughts. The click of his shoes on the stairs was dulled by layer upon layer of dust, and his fingers on the handrail left a clear trail in their wake. This puzzled him. Despite years and years of disuse, the underground chamber had never gathered so much as a fleck of dust. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together and examined the filth that collected there. It made him nauseous. He walked towards the old fountain with a cautiousness that he hadn’t embodied since his journey with Rose. The closer he got, the more nauseous he became. He started to panic - just what was going on down here?

Peering over the stone edge, he nearly lost the contents of his stomach. Staring back at him was a shallow, moldy, malevolent pond. The black surface shimmered in a way that mystified. Despite the horrible stench, Mikleo shakily hauled himself up onto the rim of the fountain in order to get a closer look. He bent down to touch the surface of the grime, slowly inching his hand forward and stretching out his fingers. 

  
A small, oily hand shot out of the muck and grabbed his finger like a child would. Mikleo screamed and pulled his hand back, falling off of the rim in the process. His body refused to go anywhere, no matter how hard he willed it. Swallowing the bile in his throat, he clutched his head and curled in on himself. He felt himself crying - but from fear, sadness, anger? He didn’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this chapter as both an apology for taking so long to update last time and also as a celebration of the 5th episode of TOZX.


	6. Purple Hydrangeas

 

Mikleo was lying on the floor. He knew so because he could feel the cool tile against his palms and the side of his face. His body felt clammy, like he had been drenched with sweat. When he managed to peel his eyes open his vision was hazy, and a soft purple snow fell lightly off of his eyelashes. It was then that he realized it wasn’t his vision that was clouded - it was the entirety of the room. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and stared at the layers of purple fog shifting around him with every movement. It was… it was beautiful if he was being honest with himself. But it was probably dangerous. He would have said it was Symmone, if not for the fact that she had vanished after the incident in Artorius’ Throne. 

 

He had been trying to keep his breathing steady and shallow, not knowing whether or not the stuff he’d become enveloped in was toxic. That plan was thwarted, however, when the back of his knees collided with the stone of the fountain, causing him to gasp and nearly fall into the black sludge below. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand shot out of the fog and caught him, pulling him back onto his feet. 

 

Assuming it was Zaveid, or one of the Shepherds, he brushed himself off with a quiet “Thank you,” in the hand’s general direction. When he got no response, he afforded and glance upwards, and nearly fell over again. His heart clenched, shooting up into his throat and preventing any words from escaping. At the same time, his stomach dropped as if he was in freefall.

 

“S-Sorey?”

 

The man before him smiled, and Mikleo felt like he had been shot. 

 

“Hey, Mikleo.” 

 

It was him. It was his voice, his smile, his kind face and brilliant green eyes. Mikleo’s entire body shook with the effort of stepping forward, outstretched arm wobbling so violently it seemed as if it might fall off. Sorey reached out and steadied it with his left hand, Shepherd’s glove and feather bracelet still secured there. He guided Mikleo’s hand to his face, pressing the other’s palm to his cheek. They stayed like that for a moment, Mikleo’s hand still held tightly in Sorey’s, just staring at each other. It was Sorey who broke the silence first.

 

“I’ve missed you, Mikleo,” he whispered, moving their hands so that they were intertwined between their chests. 

 

Mikleo gulped. He couldn’t bring himself to produce words. The powder had made his throat dry. He opted for a nod instead. Sorey laughed softly, squeezing Mikleo’s hands in his own before his face split into a grin. 

 

“Come on, I have things I want to show you! You’re going to love it!” With that Sorey brushed past Mikleo, towards the inside of the chamber. Mikleo was about to follow when something prickled at the back of his neck. He had known something was suspicious, was wrong, about this whole ordeal, but he still wasn’t able to pinpoint just what was making his stomach turn. Sorey noticed this hesitation, and turned back to Mikleo with a concerned look painted on his face. Mikleo steeled himself, planted his feet, and looked the other man in the eye. 

 

“What is going on, Sorey?”

 

Sorey, in turn, tilted his head. The action was so endearing, so like a puppy, and so achingly familiar that Mikleo nearly dropped his question right there. But there was something odd about his face. His eyes, despite his best attempts to look innocent and excited, held something in them that Mikleo didn’t recognize, and had no desire to learn. He repeated his question, more firmly this time. 

 

“Tell me what is going on.”

 

Sorey hesitated, then grabbed Mikleo by the hand again. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just really excited to show you some things that I found.” He tugged at Mikleo’s hand, pulling him forward half a step, before Mikleo tore away. There was a flash of pure anger in those bright green eyes that terrified him, and Mikleo found himself backing away. The purple fog began to grow thicker around the two of them, and he found himself choking on the thickness of the air. Sorey began to match his steps, forcing them into some kind of sick dance. His shoes made a sharp, distinct clacking on the tile floor - one that Sorey’s boots had never once created. Mikleo found himself sweating again. 

 

“Come on, Mikleo, don’t be afraid…” Sorey said slowly, snake-like… almost seductively. 

 

Mikleo flinched at the tone, continuing to back away, but started when he felt his back hit a wall. Frantically looking around, he realized he no longer had any sense of direction, or any idea what part of the chamber he was in. Sorey - what he now determined was not, truly, Sorey - realized the opportunity he had been afforded, and was mere inches before Mikleo in a matter of seconds. 

 

“I’ve missed you so much, Mikleo,” Not-Sorey whispered hotly into his ear. Mikleo closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, shivering when he felt the creature’s tongue glide across his throat. It left a burning trail of oily saliva in its wake. Mikleo briefly wondered what would happen if he became sick all over this thing, but the wandering thought was cut short by a sudden burst of heat blazing before him. The scream that shot out of the creature’s throat was practically demonic, filled with a terrifying mixture of rage, sorrow, and hatred. 

 

“Edna, Zaveid, you two take care of that... thing!” Mikleo heard Lailah shout through the fog. In moments he saw her concerned face in front of his, and her smile upon realizing he was uninjured. He reached out to gently touch her face before a shock of pain screamed through his system. His throat felt like it was splitting open at the seams, and he felt his knees go out from under him as Lailah shouted above him. For a moment, he felt like he was really, truly dying, like the nerve endings in his throat had caught fire and sparked the rest of his body.

 

Then, in an instant, he felt… overwhelming peace.

 

Followed by a clean slap to the face.

 

His eyes flew open once again, greeted with the sight of Edna’s face looming over him, expression undecipherable. She looked over her shoulder and back down at him, offering her umbrella as a hand for him to stand. 

 

“Don’t you dare knock out here,” she hissed once he was on his feet. “What the hell is this thing, and why is it here? How did it manage to get inside the sanctuary? We blessed this place to hell and back after Medusa!” Mikleo shook his head, hoping it would suffice as an “I don’t know” gesture. Edna clicked her tongue and turned to look back over her shoulder.

 

Through the fog, Mikleo heard someone shout “Fethmus Mioma!” and saw a flash of red, dulled by the purple droplets. He felt panic rising up inside him again, whipping his head around to face Edna. “Who is that? Which Shepherd is that?” Dozens of faces spun through his mind, none of them powerful enough to fight that strong of a hellion, none of them nearly experienced enough. He thought about how he would feel if another person was killed because of his inability to hold his own - because of his lack of strength. He made to run towards the fight, determined to help in any way he could, but was suddenly blocked by Edna’s umbrella.

 

“What are you doing? Let me go! We have to help!”

 

“You don’t have a pact with her, you idiot! You run in there without thinking, you’ll get all of us killed!”

 

“W-Why does she have a pact with Lailah, then? Lailah doesn’t even live here!”

 

“She just made it, obviously.” Edna deadpanned. Mikleo gaped at her. “Look, Meebo, she doesn’t need to purify the thing right this second. I don’t think she would be strong enough to, anyway. We just needed to… scare it away. But there’s nothing scary about a little Shepherd with no pacts!” Mikleo continued to stare at her, but nodded in understanding anyway.

 

“So what can we do to help?” he asked, face determined. 

 

Edna looked at him with an expression he couldn’t place, then sighed. “You’re still the same as you always were, aren’t you? Come on, then, we can at least act as distractions.” And with that she took off towards the fight, leaving Mikleo to follow after her.

 

“What does that even mean?” He called out before racing in the direction she disappeared.

 

It took Mikleo a couple of moments to come to terms with what he was seeing when he and Edna converged upon the battle. Before him was a creature so deformed he couldn’t think of any way to describe it, words blocked by bile threatening to creep up his throat. The creature whipped around forcefully, trying to keep up with the Shepherd dancing around the room. It’s head faced Mikleo for a flash, and he felt a distinct chill run up his spine. 

 

A wide, thin mouth snarled in all directions, flinging boiling, purple saliva in its wake. Haunting violet eyes were slitted with anger; they stretched all the way to the back of the creature’s head. In fact, the whole being itself seemed to have been stretched to ungodly lengths. Six gangly, slimy limbs protruded from a torso not much thicker than the arms themselves. As Mikleo watched in horror, the creature took one of his long, mangled hands, and reached down to where it’s tail like leg quivered and struggled underneath it. The limb cracked and tore in its grip. Mikleo felt the blood drain from his face. Dark, rotted-smelling blood poured from the wound - and muscle tendons shot upwards out of the severed limb. In mere seconds the orphan limb was violently attached to the torso once more; the creature now stood on two legs. Blood poured from every crack in it’s tangled, tree-like body. 

 

The face came around once more, and with another shock of horror, Mikleo recognized it. It acted almost fluid, and he had to look closely to capture the expressions behind the hateful mask of the hellion. To his amazement, shrieking in agony in front of him, was Symmone. In another flash, face stretched permanently into a sick smile, was Lunarre. 

 

Before Mikleo had time to wonder just what the hell was going on here, an attack evaded by the Shepherd landed with a crunch just a few yards ahead of him. 

 

“Mikleo, what the hell! Didn’t you hear me? I told you to move it!” came Edna’s voice from far to his left. 

 

Armatized, Lailah and the Shepherd shouted an apology in unison; Zaveid was occupied trying to distract the monster, which, Mikleo realized, is probably why he didn’t get slaughtered. 

 

Shaking some sense back into himself, Mikleo observed the situation. This… Lunarre-Symmone creature had the ability to grow limbs, but only if another was ripped off. Whatever it was secreting seemed to be poisonous. It was focused solely on the Shepherd, Edna and Zaveid’s attacks bounced off with little to no damage done. Lailah and the Shepherd couldn’t land a hit, too focused on not being crushed by the multiplying fists. Suddenly a hunch nudged itself in the back of his mind and he found himself instinctively settling into his casting stance.

 

His eyes trailed briefly over the hellion’s body, picking up minute scars and points that gave way to secondary limbs. He focused on these spots, breathing out steadily through his nose before raising his staff in the air.

 

“Violent Storm,” he muttered under his breath. Frozen and fiery petals scattered throughout the chamber, converging on the hellion where he aimed them. He held his breath, worried that his hunch would prove true. 

 

No effect.

 

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. There was no way they were going to win this battle - not today. He watched the creature tear itself another arm, now having double the limbs that it’d had when Mikleo first saw it. “It’s no use!” he shouted to Edna, who, based on her reaction, had already figured that out herself. They needed to find a safe way to retreat, and fast. 

 

“Lailah, I have a plan. I don’t like it, but I don’t have anything else. Are you listening?”

 

The Shepherd, in response, paused in their movements for the first time since the fight had ensued. Presea stared back at him, sweat dripping down her chin, and gasped out, “I’ll hear it, anything to get this thing-” she dodged another leg and cursed, “to leave me alone!”

 

Mikleo pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Well, you’re definitely not going to like this: we have to run.”

 

“I can’t just leave this thing to wreck havoc down here!” 

 

“That’s the only way any of us are getting out alive. We can’t beat it like this. We have to seal it in the inner chamber until we can come up with a better plan!”

 

Zaveid chimed in then, similarly exhausted from repeated arte use; “Hey, Mickey, I’m down for taking a breather and all, but how exactly do you plan to seal this guy away?”

 

“Well - that’s the part I don’t really like. The only person this thing seems to care about it Presea. We need it to chase her into the very deepest room, and once it’s in there, she needs to spring out as fast as she can so that you, Edna, Lailah, and I can seal the door behind her. And that means she can’t be armatized.”

 

“Are you kidding? If they drop the armatus right now she could faint, and then we’d really be screwed,” Edna said from her new position beside Mikleo. 

 

“We don’t have any other choice,” he hissed back at her, “We need Lailah to form a seal, and she can’t do that while she’s armatized.”

 

Presea landed in front of them just then, face filled with determination. “I’ll do it. If we can’t beat it now then there’s no use wasting our energy. Lailah, stay with me as long as you can. Bail out the second I cross the final threshold. Understand?”

 

And with that they were off, the Shepherd leading the pack. Mikleo found himself silently thanking Sorey for all the footraces he had been challenged to over the years, bringing up the back with Edna and Zaveid so they could try to slow the hellion down from behind. Presea’s foot hit the floor of the central chamber and Mikleo watched as Lailah shot out of her body, the two of them propelled in opposite directions by the force. Presea rolled, and Mikleo’s skin turned to ice as he saw the creature nearly barrel over her. It slammed against the back wall with incredible force, momentarily stunned. 

 

“Presea!” Mikleo and Lailah shouted simultaneously. The girl in question hauled herself shakily up to her hands and knees, panting hard. 

 

“Yes, okay, good! Come on, you just have to get through the door - but you have to do it now!” Mikleo found himself babbling encouragement from just outside the room. He watched Presea take a steadying breath before shoving herself off of the floor, sprinting forward and collapsing just on the other side of the threshold. 

 

“Now!” he commanded with obvious relief. The other three seraphim nodded, and the four of them erected a thick barrier between them and the hellion. It rammed itself against the wall, but the barrier held. Mikleo let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

 

“Okay, now we just form a barrier on every other doorway between here and the sanctuary, so if it manages to break through a couple of them we’ll still have time before it escapes- Ow!” he turned to glare at Edna, who had smacked the back of his head with her umbrella. “What was that for?”

 

“That was the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard.” She said simply before turning to walk out. 

 

Mikleo put his hands on his hips, face bewildered, looking back and forth between Lailah and the back of Edna’s head. “I didn’t see you coming up with anything!” 

 

She shrugged. Mikleo turned his attention to Presea instead. With Lailah’s help he hauled the woman up onto his back, following Edna and Zaveid to the next doorway. 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

The four of them decided to debrief while Presea was resting, heading out into the cool night air of Lady Lake. The Shepherd flags were still up from the day’s festivities, but the throng of people crowding the streets had all but died down. The group decided to stop in front of the water wheels, the bubbling rush of them providing soothing background noise. It was Zaveid who spoke first, leaning back against the guard rails and looking up at the first few stars of the night. 

 

“So... does anyone have a better understanding about just what the hell that was than I do?”

 

All of them sighed. Mikleo recalled the last time they had all been together: Alisha’s funeral. He made a mental note to get together more often when they weren’t in mourning. Lailah interrupted his thoughts with a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Mikleo, you were there first, do you remember what led up to the hellion’s formation?” she asked softly, a sadness in her eyes that made him feel young and small again. 

 

“I went down there to take a break because Abel was upset and directing his feelings towards me. I noticed that a lot of dust had gathered, but I wasn’t sure why, and I went to sit by the fountain to collect my thoughts.” He paused here and glanced upwards at the stars himself, focusing on the washed out sky behind the pillar of light in Camlann. “I noticed that the water in the fountain had turned to sludge, and I wanted to see if it was completely solid or if it still had moisture, so I reached down to touch it and…” His brows scrunched together as he tried to recall exactly what had happened.

 

“This, like, little hand shot out off the goo and grabbed me. So I pulled away and I ended up on the floor… and I think I passed out, but I don’t know for how long.” He looked at Lailah then, hoping she would take that as the end of the story, but her expectant look told him otherwise. “A-And that’s when you guys showed up,” he lied. But Edna shook her head. 

 

“You were nowhere near the fountain when we found you, that’s impossible.”

 

Lailah nodded in agreement, “Mikleo, that hellion had you pinned against the wall. You remember that, don’t you?”

 

He wondered if someone could flush and drain of color at the same time. He forced himself to nod. “It… it didn’t look like that when it first appeared.” He gulped down the lump in his throat and continued. “When I woke up there was a thick fog around me. I stumbled and almost fell into the fountain, but somebody grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up. I thought it was Zaveid, at first,” he said, gesturing in his direction. A nervous laugh found its way out of him. “Obviously, it wasn’t.”

 

“Wait, you mean the hellion saved you?” Lailah asked.

 

“No, no. Well. Yes and know, I guess. It saved me from falling in the fountain if you want to say that.” Mikleo stuttered out.

 

“Okay, so how do we get from Point A to Point B here, Mickey?” Zaveid chimed in. 

 

“He- it. It took.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He tried again. “It uh. It took the uh. Took the.” What is wrong with his vocal chords. His lips felt numb, hesitating and stuck on the first syllable of “form.” Again. “It … the ff.. Ffu.” Why. Why. Why is this happening. He felt light-headed, tongue tied over a single word that he just couldn’t manage to spit out. “Ffuu. FFF. Augh!” For whatever reason he couldn’t talk anymore. He was humiliated, refusing to look up and see any of the others’ confused faces. He crossed his arms and pointedly stared at the floor, frustrated at himself but also terrified. An uneasy silence fell over the group, and Mikleo refused to be the one to break it. 

 

After a very pregnant pause, Mikleo heard the sound of fabric rustling. Suddenly a scrap of paper and a broken pencil were thrust into his view, and he glanced up at their source.

 

Zaveid was watching him with absolutely no mirth or malice. His facade was completely neutral as he spoke, “Here, try writing it down.” 

 

Somewhat stunned, Mikleo took the pencil and paper and turned around to use the railing as a writing surface. He shakily scratched out “It took the form of Sorey.” It was a handwriting that looked nothing like his own. He frowned at it, turning again to Zaveid and hesitantly handing both the paper and the pencil back to him. Zaveid gave him a small smile. It hurt in a way that left Mikleo feeling small, but also feeling loved. He rubbed at his face, attempting to bring himself back into the current reality. 

 

Zaveid turned back to Lailah and Edna while Mikleo occupied himself by staring a hole through Zaveid’s torso. “He says it took the form of our dearly beloved sleeping Sheps, Sorey.” He set a firm hand between Mikleo’s shoulder blades, “So it's no wonder it got the best of the kid. You’re long-gone boyfriend suddenly shows up, it knocks your head around a little bit, ya know?”

 

Mikleo choked. 

 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” he said when he finally got air back into his lungs. But Zaveid merely shrugged. He looked to Edna and Lailah for their reactions; Edna was smirking and Lailah was smiling behind her hand. He rolled his eyes and decided to let it go. 

 

“Okay,” Zaveid said, “If it disguised itself as Sorey, then it must know him- or at least know of him, right?”

 

Mikleo remembered the familiar faces of Lunarre and Symmone and shivered. “Didn’t you guys recognize them?”

 

Edna tilted her head, “Recognize who?”

 

“Lunarre! And Symmone! Couldn’t you see their faces? And there were others too - other faces that is - but I couldn’t get a good look at them.”

 

Lailah gasped, the other three turning to look at her expectantly. She looked like she could be ill, and Mikleo immediately began to worry 80 percent more than he already had been. “Sounds like bad news,” Edna deadpanned.

 

“It is certainly bad news,” Lailah confirmed sadly. “That was no ordinary hellion. If there really are people… combined inside such strong malevolence, then I’m afraid we’re dealing with a hydra.”

 

“A hydra, as in the mythical monster?” Mikleo asked. When Lailah nodded, Mikleo continued, “That would make sense. In Greek mythology the Hydra was a monster who, when one of its heads was cut off, would grow two more. I noticed that about the hellion today. Except I also noticed something else: none of our attacks managed to cut off any of the limbs. If the mythology holds true, the hero Hercules killed the monster by cauterizing the wounds right after they were inflicted, so that new heads couldn’t grow through. But, like I said, if we can’t inflict any damage on it, there’s no way we would be able to sever a limb, let alone decapitate it.”

 

“While relying on mythology may be somewhat helpful, a hydra hellion is not exactly like the mythical one,” Lailah explained. “To begin with, it only has one head, and I’ve never heard of anyone being able to decapitate it. Secondly, well… a hydra is made when a particularly nasty hellion and a seraph with strong ties to malevolence strike a deal. The two merge together and form the head, which is then known as a hydrite. 

 

“The hydrite is drawn to areas of thick malevolence, where it preys on humans and absorbs them, using multiple humans to form their body. The amount of limbs they can create is a direct reflection of how many humans they have absorbed...and, this is the worst part. As far as I know, the only way to kill a fully formed hydra is to separate each of the souls and purify them by themselves.”

 

“And how do we separate the souls if we can’t land a hit on it?” Edna asked.

 

Lailah was about to answer when Mikleo spoke instead. “Wait, it used its own claws to split its limbs and create new ones. That must be the only thing we can use, right?”

  
She nodded, and Mikleo nodded to himself in return. “Okay, so now we make a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has nothing to do with the prompt for Sormik week but I'm putting it up anyway.


	7. History Buff

“Presea, how are you feeling?” Mikleo asked as he strode into the room, a dozen ancient texts stacked precariously in his arms.

 

“Oh! Master Mikleo, I’m glad you’re okay!” She exclaimed as an answer. He paused and knitted his eyebrows together.

 

“Y-Yes? I was asking about you, though. You’re the one who formed a pact, after all.”

 

She waved off his concern, flapping her hand about haphazardly as she replied. “Its nothing other Shepherds haven’t gone through. I’m just doing my part.” Mikleo thought back to the day Sorey became the Shepherd, when he had rushed into a pact with Lailah in order to quell a hellion that had appeared in the church - she wasn’t wrong.

 

“I trust Lailah brought you up to speed on the situation?”

 

Presea nodded. The seraph in question was perched on a barstool nearby, hands cradling the biggest mug of tea she had ever seen. Lailah, in turn, nodded at Mikleo as he approached, not flinching in the slightest when he dropped the stack of books on the table in front of her. It wasn’t much of a surprise, Presea reasoned, given the three similar stacks scattered about the kitchen. 

 

“Great,” Mikleo muttered, so quietly that if Presea hadn’t known better she’d think he was talking to himself. Unblinking, he grabbed the mug out of Lailah’s hand and took a few gulps for himself, setting it back down between her hands, which hadn’t moved. There was a strange silence between the three of them, the seraphim staring blankly in different directions while the Shepherd glanced between them, bewildered.

 

Mikleo jumped when a thud sounded behind him, breaking him out of his daze. 

 

“Who the hell built this place? Dwarves?” came Zaveid’s scratchy voice as he ducked into the room, rubbing his forehead.

 

“That’s possible,” Mikleo threw out, mind elsewhere now that he had snapped back to reality and picked up one of the tomes. 

 

“Humans have grown steadily taller over the centuries, Zaveid,” Lailah supplied with a yawn. “And we are in the oldest part of the castle.”

 

Zaveid huffed. “Are you two still at it? It’s been two days! If you exhaust yourselves with research then what’ll happen when we fight the thing?”

 

“Well, hopefully, we’ll beat it,” Mikleo groaned, defeated. Zaveid came over to ruffle his hair, pausing with hand still entangled when he noticed Presea.

 

“Hey! The Shepherd’s awake, how ya feelin’ little lady?” he boomed, shoving away from Mikleo with more force than intended, incidentally toppling him onto the floor. “Oops, sorry Mickey-boy,” Zaveid said with enough decency to at least sound guilty. 

 

“Well, looks like quite a bit is getting done down here, huh?” Edna jeered as she stepped through the other doorway. Mikleo stared up at her from the floor, Zaveid’s hand still awkwardly dangling in the air above him. 

 

Lailah perked up with Edna’s entrance, setting aside her mug and the text she was browsing. “Did you find anything?”

 

Edna shook her head, tossing her umbrella over her shoulder with a pensive look. “I’m not sure. I don’t have any hard evidence to determine just how many souls have been captured by the hydra. It’s a big city, apparently people go missing all the time. Plus, more and more people are taking journeys to Camlann now that Sorey’s light acts as a beacon for them, so the hydra could have preyed on those travellers as well.”

 

Mikleo, still on the floor, threw his arm over his eyes. “So we have absolutely no idea what we’re taking on. Lailah and I have been scouring ancient texts and they only ever mention hydra hellions as ancient creatures. These texts are ancient to us, if hydras are ancient to them, I can only imagine how little information there truly is!”

 

“Too bad Zenrus isn’t here. He had been around for a long time. I bet he would know something,” Edna said.

 

“Mmm. Unfortunate,” Mikleo muttered from underneath the tome he had set on his face.

 

Lailah, however, perked up at the mention of Zenrus. “Oh! That’s a great idea Edna!”

 

“Lailah-”

 

“No, Mikleo, you never went through Lord Zenrus’ possessions, right?”

 

He slid the book off his face. “Uh. No.”

 

“Well, he might have some sort of records that you haven’t seen before!” Lailah stood from her stool and skipped around the table to where Mikleo lay. “There had to be things he didn’t let you mess around with as a child, and I’m betting information about hydras falls into that category.”

 

Mikleo frowned up at her, her hair dangling just centimeters above his face from where she stood. “I see your point, but wouldn’t Gramps have told Sorey and I about hydras when Sorey became the Shepherd?”

 

At this point Zaveid spoke up, “Well it probably wasn’t pertinent information to him at the time, kiddo, considering how long it’s been since they’ve been relevant.”

 

“As much as I hate to say it, Zaveid’s right Meebo. We might as well look for information where we are most likely to find it. Since we didn’t start there and nobody here knows anything.”

 

The discomfort on Mikleo’s face was evident, but he knew that they were right. He sighed deeply and sat up, cradling his head in his hands. “Fine, when are we leaving?”

 

“We should probably leave as soon as possible, what do you think, Edna? Zaveid?” The two seraphim nodded in response to Lailah’s question, and she clapped her hands together. “Okay, let’s get ready then. Presea, you’re coming, right?”

 

Presea, who had been merely a witness to the conversation, perked up at the mention of her name. “Oh? Really?”

 

“Of course,” Lailah replied, “You’re as much a part of this as the rest of us.”

 

“O-Okay!” There was a moment of scuffling as people put things away before Presea spoke again. “I’ve never been to Elysia before.”

 

Mikleo glanced at her over a stack of books, muttering, “Not many humans have,” before exiting into the hall. Presea looked at Lailah for a response.

 

“Did I do something wrong?”

 

Lailah simply smiled at her and replied, “You should go get ready.”

 

By late morning the party had gathered just outside the gates of the city, Mikleo fidgeting with his travel pack instead of conversing with his companions. It was the same bag that he had carefully gathered supplies for when he knew Sorey would try to leave Elysia with only the shirt on his back and a couple snacks shoved into his pockets. It was the same bag that Rose had packed for him, when she and the others had forced him out of his grief-induced slump. It was the same bag that had been sitting in the back of his closet since Rose had retired from her Shepherd duties and the two of them had taken up residence in the castle. Now, after so long, he had packed it again, to help another new Shepherd take on her role. The straps were worn where they rested on his shoulders, and he fondly recalled how much his back had ached on Sorey’s journey, bag highly overpacked out of worry for the Shepherd. Now it served merely as a comforting weight resting between his shoulder blades, carrying only necessities for the short journey home.

 

Home. The word felt foreign on Mikleo’s tongue. Home for so long had been warm emerald eyes, an aura that positively glowed with excitement and purity, and strong but gentle fingers ghosting over his skin, returning with laughter after they were smacked away. And, of course, Elysia had been their childhood home, but with both Gramps and Sorey absent, it never comforted him the way it once had. There was a reason he hadn’t been back since accompanying Rose, after all. 

 

He was shaken out of his daze by the forceful tap of an umbrella tip against his lower back. “Come on, Meebo, let’s get a move on. You can’t expect such beautiful ladies to wait around for you all day. Plus,” she smirked and pointed up ahead with her parasol, “Lailah is just about to start telling the new girl all sorts of fun tidbits about you and Sorey.” 

 

Mikleo flushed and hurried after the two women in front of him. “Lailah! Don’t say anything you’ll regret!” he called out as he dashed away. Edna and Zaveid watched him go, and paused for a moment before walking themselves.

 

“Do you think Mikleo is going to be okay?” Zaveid asked her. There was a casual air to the question, but Edna could tell that it was a serious inquiry. “There are a lot of things in Elysia that could trigger something in him. He was already oozing malevolence when we first dragged him out of there, we don’t need him to suddenly fall back into that hole.”

 

Edna sighed. “He had no idea just how bad of a state he was in. Even I’m a bit worried. Malevolence isn’t just attracted to hatred and anger- it’s attracted to sadness, despair, loneliness, the whole ordeal.” Zaveid nodded next to her, clearly preoccupied with the same issue.

  
“And we both know first-hand what happens when a seraph can’t fight off that malevolence.” He paused for a moment, eyes wandering to the three figures ahead of him, looking to be in the middle of a heated debate. “Mickey-boy is strong, but he needs to learn how to ask for help.”

 

“Like you’re so good at asking for help, Mr. Exile?”

 

"Can it, little lady. You’re guilty here as well.”

 

“Could you guys hurry it up a little? Some of us are actually trying to make good time here!” came Mikleo’s voice from a little ways up the mountain. There was a grin on his face that, although neither of them would ever admit it, reminded them of Sorey.

 

The group opted to skip camping for the night so that they could reach Elysia as soon as possible, where they would be able to rest comfortably as well as begin their research. Zaveid offered to carry Presea if she became tired, but she respectfully declined, saying that it reminded her of her all-night exploring adventures with her sister when she was younger. They stepped through what once would have been the threshold of Gramp’s domain, and Mikleo missed the sense of safety and security that used to accompany it. The closer they got to the village, the more excited Presea became - although she tried very hard to mask it.

 

Upon their entrance to the village, they were greeted by a child seraph whom Mikleo did not know. It startled him- the idea that there was someone in Elysia he didn’t know. Something about the girl seemed oddly familiar, but when Mikleo tried to greet her, she dashed away. Presea, who had been chattering excitedly, was suddenly silent.

 

Mikleo had wanted to be as swift and secretive as possible about his brief return to the village, since they were dealing with time-sensitive business. However, the child seraph, who had summoned the village elders, seemed to have other ideas. Before the group could make their way very far into the town, the local seraphim had them practically surrounded. He should have known- when Alisha first arrived, the entire population had felt her presence, and had come to see what the commotion was about. A similar scene occurred with Rose’s first visit, and now another unfamiliar human energy had appeared. 

 

From further up on the hill came Kyme, who had taken to leading the village after Zenrus’ death. He smiled brightly when he spotted them, and Mikleo felt guilty. “Mikleo! It’s been so long. Alicja told me that a strange group of seraphim and a human had entered the village. I wasn’t sure if I dared to hope it would be you.”

 

Lailah laughed, greeting Kyme with a hug. “Oh, don’t make him feel guilty! He has been very busy since he left. Plus, to you and I, 50 years passes like the blink of an eye!”

 

“But not for young Mikleo! I am hurt that he wasn’t homesick once in this last half-century.”

 

Mikleo could tell that he was only half joking, and refrained from confessing that he was indeed homesick, but that his home was a person. “Hi, Kyme,” he said quietly, “Unfortunately, we aren’t here to visit. Let’s talk inside.”

 

Kyme agreed and they walked the short distance to Gramps’ hut. As Mikleo was about to shut the door, he noticed that Presea was still half a dozen yards away, standing with her back to him. He followed her gaze and saw the young seraph - Alicja, Kyme had said - picking flowers on the cliffside. “Presea?” he called out to her. When she didn’t respond, he walked briskly to her side.

 

“Hey, Presea, we’re-”

 

She turned to him, face red and puffy, with tracks of tears streaming down her cheeks. “Its her.” she said softly. Suddenly, Mikleo remembered the first time he had seen Presea, sneaking out of the city late one night with… with her sister. Her sister who had died shortly after. “Its Alicja.” With that, Presea threw herself into Mikleo’s arms and sobbed.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

That night, after filling Kyme in on the situation, the party decided to rest a bit before diving headfirst into Zenrus’ stockpile of information. A kind-hearted earth seraph insisted on cooking for them, saying it was the least he could do for the new Shepherd as well as his old companions. The Shepherd herself, however, had yet to emerge from Mikleo’s hut, where he had let her calm down earlier. He brought her a bowl of the stew hoping that she would feel good enough to eat it- when Sorey became emotional, he lost his appetite completely, and Mikleo had to beg him to eat something. 

 

He knocked on the door but received no response. After another knock was met with only silence, he cracked the door open and called out Presea’s name. He found the Shepherd asleep on the bed, looking all the child she had looked a little over two decades ago. Kyme had informed him that a research party on their way home from Camlann had stumbled upon Alicja when she was lost in the Aroundight Forest and, upon realizing she was a seraph, brought her to Elysia. The only thing the girl remembered was her name. The strangest part, Kyme had said, was that she hadn’t physically aged in the twenty years she’s been there. Mikleo wondered if it was because she saw no reason to. Seraphim didn’t necessarily need to age- he had only done so because he grew up with Sorey, and Edna had halted her own growth when Eizen had become a dragon. Whatever her reason, the stoppage made her a carbon copy of the sister that Presea had lost. Mikleo imagined it wasn’t easy to deal with. 

 

He set the stew on the table and looked around. Being in his own home again was surreal, and recalling the time he had spent there without Sorey made him very nearly sick to his stomach. He padded over to the bookshelf, which Rose and Zaveid had so kindly arranged in alphabetical order. He was suddenly struck by the fact that he hadn’t written for his book, or his journal, in quite some time. It was decided then to pass the time until Presea woke up by doing just that. He had to finish Rose’s section, after all, and he would want to tell Sorey about this new adventure with Presea. So he made himself comfortable at the table, opposite the stew, and began to write.

 

Without realizing it, Mikleo spent the entire night writing, carefully drafting and redrafting the end to Rose’s story. In reality, the end of her life hadn’t even come long ago- her celebration of life wasn’t even concluded before the hydra showed up. Mikleo hoped that this was a healthy way to cope with her loss. He had promised her that. A tear splattered on the parchment and startled him, and he frantically dug a tissue out of his cupboard to blot it before it could stain. Another dropped lightly on his wrist and he frowned, bringing his hand up to wipe under his eyes. Odd, he certainly hadn’t planned on crying. 

 

He closed his notebook so he wouldn’t risk any more damage to it and caught more tears with his tissue, looking around the room once again. Maybe it was this place, the painful memories here - both good and bad. He couldn’t help but remember every interaction with Sorey he had had in this room, it was as if the wood in the walls was saturated with them. On the other hand, he couldn’t forget his long stint of isolation inside the very same walls. He could almost smell the desperation and sadness in the air. It gave him chills. Made his heart hurt. 

 

Lailah had told him to take deep breaths and count to ten when he felt this way. He still wasn’t sure if it worked, but giving it a try couldn’t hurt. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose, and started counting. When he reached five, a hand on his shoulder startled him and he whirled around to see Presea standing in her wrinkled sleep clothes, face full of knowing concern. Mikleo sniffed.

 

“I’m sorry if I woke you. I had brought you dinner but you were asleep. I didn’t actually mean to be here all night, but I got distracted.”

 

“It’s perfectly okay, Mikleo. Thank you for checking in on me.” She glanced at his still damp eyelashes and smiled kindly, reaching up to thumb away a tear that was trying to escape. Mikleo blinked down at her, but she merely patted his cheek and turned away. “Have you made any headway with our hydra issue?”

 

“Oh. I uh. I actually don’t know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, “I’ve been here writing the whole night. But we should go check!”

 

“Okay, sounds like a plan! Lead the way, Master Mikleo!”

 

Mikleo nearly tripped on the floorboards. “Oh gods, you can drop the ‘Master,’ we practically look the same age.”

 

“Aw, come on,” she laughed as she followed him out the door, “I’ve called you Master Mikleo for 20 years, it’s a bit of a hard habit to break!”

 

“Speaking of a hard habit!” Zaveid called from Zenrus’ doorstep. Mikleo cringed at the euphemism. “Looking a bit frazzled there Ms. Sheps, I wondered why Mickey-boy here didn’t come back last night!”

 

Mikleo elbowed him hard in the gut as he passed by, walking straight to Lailah and ignoring the fuss that Zaveid was now making. “Hey, sorry about last night. Got distracted. Find anything?” he asked. 

 

Lailah shook her head. “So far, nothing, but-”

 

“‘But we’ve only looked for nine hours so far!’ Isn’t that right?” Edna sighed, waist deep in an old crate. Mikleo wondered if she had just… given up. Her hips were resting on the edge, legs dangling beneath her. Mikleo would laugh if he wasn’t terrified of her wrath. 

 

“Really? Nine hours? Shouldn’t you guys take a break?” Mikleo questioned, moving absently through the room and trailing his fingers along the dusty books and trinkets.

 

“Nah,” Zaveid interjected, finally done bothering Presea outside, “We’re tough. We been around a long time.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I want to spend any length of time in a dusty old box, you cocky windbag,” Edna called from across the room.

 

“Hey, watch it before you get some of this cocky windbag!”

 

Edna removed herself from the box and gave Zaveid a glare that made Mikleo afraid to be in the same room as them. “Ew. You’re disgusting,” she deadpanned before walking into a different room.

 

“Anyway!” Lailah clapped, “Mikleo is right, let’s take a break. Zaveid, you can hang out with Mikleo,” a protest died on Mikleo’s lips when Lailah held a finger up to shush him, “And Presea, Edna, and I will go have some girl time!”

 

“Oh no no no, that’s okay! I’ve been sleeping all night, I can do some research while you’re taking a break, don’t worry about it!” Presea answered. But Lailah was having none of it. She sped past Mikleo and grabbed Presea by the wrist, shouting at Edna to join them when she was finished. Edna emerged from the other room with another - although slightly smaller - crate, and dropped it at Mikleo’s feet. She smirked and threw a wave over her shoulder as the followed the other ladies outside and slammed the door.

 

Mikleo was left standing in the middle of the entryway, mouth gaping indignantly at the closed door. Zaveid came up behind him and ruffled his hair again. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kiddo. Whaddya’ wanna do?”

 

Mikleo rolled his eyes at him. “Research.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry about the length of time between updates you guys. I've been pretty busy since I last updated, and even though this chapter is about 700 words short of my usual goal, I felt obligated to put it up since I've kept you waiting for so long. 
> 
> Also, I have basically everything figured out for how this story is going to go, the hard part is filling in the plot in between those main points in a realistic and not-rushed way. (P.S. How many of you have played ToS? I really loved the whole Presea/Alicia/Regal arc, so I paid some homage here.)
> 
> Comments and Kudos keep me going! (But seriously, it's a reminder to actually WRITE!)


	8. The Burden of Knowing

Mikleo soon found himself kneeling in the middle of what used to be Gramps’ main living area, bent over with his face pressed against a particularly old tome in exasperation. Scattered around him were crates and boxes of various size and age, discarded haphazardly when their contents proved useless. Somewhere among the wreckage lie Zaveid, who had decided that napping was a better use of his time than helping Mikleo. 

 

In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed since the other half of their party had left - it could have been six hours, it could have been 20 minutes. He sighed and slouched further into the ground, knees sliding across the old wood and bringing up splinters. He almost missed the small clicking noise that sounded beneath his hips, which would have been inaudible if he had happened to breathe any harder than he was. Curious, he propped himself up on his hands, knees locked in the same place, and peered underneath himself. 

 

His knee had lodged perfectly into a knot on a particularly thick floorboard, causing the entirety of the thing to slide along as he moved his leg. Knitting his brows together, he watched as he slid his legs further back, the effort rewarded with a series of satisfying clicking noises. 

 

“What… What are you doing? Push-ups?” Zaveid asked as he peered over a stack of boxes, “Is that sound your joints clicking??”

 

Mikleo rolled his eyes, “No, shut up, look.” He carefully lifted himself and crawled backwards so that the notch was now in his line of sight. “When you move this board it sounds like something opens, listen.” He grabbed the latch and pulled towards himself, scuffling backwards when the board continued to move. The further he got away from the starting point, the faster the clicking noises came, and he managed to back up all the way until his ass hit the wall behind him. Zaveid laughed at him.

 

“I see what you mean, but what exactly does it do? Aside from moving some boards around…?” 

 

“Well,” Mikleo huffed, “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” He pushed the board so that it hit the wall between his legs. It clicked once more but did nothing else, and Mikleo frowned at it. “I really thought- Ah!”

 

“Mikleo!?” Zaveid called as he sprang upright, “Are you o- Oh my gods.” The wind seraph broke into a fit of laughter when he spotted the other man, legs wiggling for purchase in the air while the rest of him fidgeted under the newly opened hole in the floor. “Are you okay?” he finally managed to ask, grabbing one of Mikleo’s ankles so he wouldn’t kick him. 

 

“I’ve certainly been better,” Mikleo groaned. He wriggled around so that he was facing upright and managed to free an arm from underneath himself. “Help me up, I think I found something.” He coughed as he was pulled from the opening and a cloud of dust left his lungs. The two of them peaked down into the darkness; they could make out the shapes of a couple different objects, but couldn’t tell what any of them were. 

 

“I’ve swallowed enough dust for the day, could you grab me those?” As if to prove his point, Mikleo coughed dramatically as he turned to Zaveid. Zaveid mumbled something about Mikleo just wanting to look at his ass, which Mikleo ignored in favor of getting himself a glass of water. When he returned from the kitchen Zaveid was pulling out the last of three artifacts. He chucked it onto the floor next to him, which shook with the sudden weight. “What the hell is in that?” Mikleo muttered.

 

“Well, it feels like a box of rocks, for gods sake,” Zaveid grumbled. Mikleo chuckled at him.

 

“Mm, now I’m curious. Let’s open that one first. Here,” Mikleo handed Zaveid the water and knelt in front of the chest. It was large enough to fit a small person inside and covered in dark leather, with gold fixtures that had dulled under centuries of dust. Mikleo wiped at the keyhole with his thumb and was unpleasantly surprised to find a sticky substance coating the metal beneath of dirt. Absentmindedly, he reached over and wiped his thumb on Zaveid’s shoulder, who wretched and complained loudly. 

 

“Use your artes, you gross little toddler!” 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Moments later, with the help of said artes, the chest was sparkling as if it had never seen a day underground. Mikleo thumbed at the lock again before glancing back and forth at the ground around them. “Hey, did you see a key?”

 

“I could barely see my own hand. Give me that.” Zaveid scooted the chest closer to himself with visible effort, before completely tearing the upper half off with a ridiculous amount of strength. Mikleo gaped at him.

 

“That could have been valuable! Priceless even! What were you thinking!?”

 

Zaveid, to his benefit, looked just as surprised. “It uh,” he mumbled, “I don’t think it was actually locked.”

 

“Oh my god,” Mikleo whispered to himself, dropping his face into his palms. They really did need to rest. He felt Zaveid nudging him in the shoulder and looked up.

 

“Look at that! I wasn’t too far off with my guess, was I?” Zaveid grinned at him. Mikleo peered into the now open chest and felt his jaw drop a second time. Gleaming back at him was the torso piece of a mithril suit of armor, the rest of the pieces visible beneath it. “Try it on, kid. The size doesn’t look too far off.”

 

Mikleo shook himself out of his admiration stupor, focusing on the two remaining items in front of him. “Maybe later. For now, we still have these to look at. Let’s see what’s in this one next,” he said, pointing at the medium-sized parcel next to Zaveid. It opened easily, with much less destruction, and it turned out to be a book. Zaveid handed it to Mikleo, who was surprised at the nearly untouched condition it was in, considering how long it must have been buried underground. “Go ahead and open the other one, I’m going to see what this says,” Mikleo said distractedly, already flipping through the pages. Zaveid nodded and grabbed the last of the uncovered items.

 

Just then the two of them heard the door squeak open, accompanied by Lailah’s surprised gasp. “It looks like a tornado blew through here! Mikleo? Zaveid?” she called. 

 

“Over here,” they replied in unison, Zaveid holding the unopened box in the air as a guidepost. 

 

“Wow!” Lailah exclaimed, “You two have been busy, haven’t you? What’s all this?”

 

“I’ll explain it to you just as soon as I open this,” Zaveid answered, shaking the box. Mikleo raised an eyebrow at him and gestured for him to proceed. He obliged, sliding a thumb under the thick black paper it was wrapped in. Beneath the paper was an ornate wooden box, no longer than a foot and no wider than a couple of inches. Mikleo scooted closer to Zaveid, book still open in his lap, and leaned over to get a better look. Carefully, Zaveid flicked the rusty lock open and flipped the lid halfway up, peering inside. 

 

“Lemme see!” Mikleo hissed, for some reason not daring to speak above a whisper. Zaveid opened the box fully, and suddenly the three of them felt sick. “Is that-?”

 

“A hydra claw!” Lailah answered before he could ask. Zaveid snapped the box shut again and set it aside. “The strength of the malevolence still radiating from it is incredible!”

 

Remembering the book in his lap, Mikleo looked down and flipped a couple pages. “If just the claw itself is that malevolent, how are we supposed to use it without being corrupted?” He paused for a second, reading a bit of the page that caught his eye. “I suppose the answer would probably be in this book. The handwriting is… familiar. I- I think this was written by Gramps!”

 

“He sure went through a lot of trouble to hide it; sounds like him alright.” Zaveid commented. 

 

Mikleo shut the book with a loud clapping sound, getting to his feet just as quickly. “I have to go read this. I’ll tell you everything important. Put that armor and that claw somewhere safe in the meantime,” he said briskly, dusting off his knees. He almost smacked into Lailah as he turned around, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and rotating so that she was no longer between him and the door. Lailah giggled at him, and he laughed awkwardly, hurrying over piles of books and boxes. He stopped after he opened the front door and turned towards them, face frowning. “Oh, and could you maybe help clean up a little bit? Thanks, sorry,” he said before he made his exit.

 

Lailah and Zaveid looked at each other, then at the mess around them, and groaned.

 

Mikleo didn’t sleep that night either- not that seraphim necessarily needed to sleep, but it had become a habit growing up with Sorey. For the second night in a row, Mikleo sat at his dining room table, hunched over a book. Tonight, however, he would finally make some sense out of this hydra matter. 

 

He left his house early the next morning, tome in hand, and headed for the river. He hiked further up than he usually would, for privacy’s sake, but also so that he could bathe closer to the source of the stream. From this higher vantage point he could see the top of one of the towers of Artorius’ throne, and although he was pretty sure Sorey’s body wasn’t on the same physical plane as his was, he felt closer to him anyway. Folding his clothes and setting them on a nearby rock, he glanced at Gramps’ book again. Only about a third of it had actually been relevant to the hydra situation, but Mikleo couldn’t help but read the entire thing. After the section about the hydra came a section detailing a Shepherd from long ago, as well as his particular Lord of Calamity. 

 

The Lord of that time had been the head of a company that manufactured bioengineered resonance abilities, which humans would attach to their skin in order to communicate with the seraphim. One day he decided that he would be the most powerful man in the world if he was the only one that could speak with them, and he spread some sort of magical virus through the attachments, causing all of those who wore them to fall to malevolence, as well as those in close contact. The Shepherd of the time dealt with him accordingly, and both he and the Lord of Chaos disappeared. 

 

As he slid beneath the cool running water, he wondered if the disappearance of the Shepherd had to do with the sheer amount of malevolence they had to quell. Rose had lived to old age, but Sorey had defeated the Lord of Calamity and ended the Age of Chaos, so Rose’s job consisted much more of a sort of purification clean-up party than a fight to the death. Sometimes he wished Lailah didn’t have her oath, he had so many questions for her! He let out a sigh and slid completely into the water, letting it tingle his cheeks with its cold waves. From here he could see the point where Sorey’s light disappeared into the clouds. He wondered what would happen when that light went out. 

 

His hand came up to rub at his throat subconsciously. The scar had faded tremendously over the years, now a tough, cream-colored patch of skin instead of a hot, angry, deep red gash. He wondered if Sorey would notice it when he came back. 

 

If he came back. 

 

The thought had Mikleo sitting upright in an instant, shaking his head as if he could force it out of his brain. The comforting briskness of the water had become an icy bite on his skin and he shivered as he climbed out, pulling himself up onto a large rock to dry in the sun. He twisted his hair in his hands to wring the water out, the action familiar now but completely foreign only a few years ago. He examined the ends of his hair and wondered if Sorey’s hair was growing, if his body was changing at all, or if he would still look 18 when he awoke. Mikleo himself would be older and stronger, and he would look that way. Would Sorey be stuck in the past, with Mikleo so far into the future? What if, despite his best efforts, he changes too much, and Sorey no longer recognizes him? He frowns at his train of thought and squeezes his hair more violently than he intended, wincing at the sharp pull. Taking a deep breath, he flicks his hair over his shoulder and climbs off the rock to fetch Gramps’ book.

 

He let himself lie there for a while, sunning his pale skin and rereading everything he needed to know about hydra hellions. Being so close to Sorey was a comfort, allowing him to absorb information more readily. And even if that wasn’t necessarily true, who was he to deny Sorey the company? It was about mid-afternoon when he finally decided to head back, turning to Sorey’s light once again after getting dressed so that he could say goodbye. When he arrived at the village he was surprised to see nearly everyone gathered, albeit haphazardly, around the center of the small town. 

 

“What’s going on?” he asked a woman as he approached, a fire seraph whom he had known since he was small. She smiled sadly at him.

 

“Well, Lailah told us you found what you had been looking for, and that you would be leaving today. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, we wanted to get together before you left us for another 50 years.”

 

Mikleo felt as though he had been punched in the gut with guilt. He awkwardly excused himself and hurried to Gramps’ hut, where he assumed Lailah and the others still were. When he cracked the door open he was indeed greeted with the sight of Lailah, who was struggling to push the box of mithril armor to the other side of the room. “Hey, what’s going on? I know we found the information we needed, but why the sudden rush to leave?” he asked. 

 

She stopped trying to move the box and instead sat down next to it, face full of worry. “A messenger came by today. Uno sent him. He said that something was wrong in the sanctuary and that people who visited were becoming sick because of it.”

 

“And you think it’s the hydra?”

 

She nodded. “The messenger also said that Uno has put a great deal of strain on himself to try and contain the malevolence. He’s worried that he will become corrupted by it.”

 

He was about to ask where the rest of their party was when his question was answered, the front door swinging open to reveal Zaveid, arms full of various equipment. Edna and Presea followed him, both looking a little worse for the wear, but Lailah seemed to ignore it so Mikleo decided he would too- for the time being, at least. 

 

“All packed and ready to go?” Zaveid asked, dropping the equipment beside Lailah and the mithril armor. Apparently they had all packed while he had been away at the river.

 

“Hold on, there’s some stuff at my house that I need. I’ll meet you guys at the gates, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but he assumed they would agree, considering their mission was now all the more time-sensitive. He grabbed his notebooks and things from his kitchen and was about to leave when something out of place on the bookshelf caught his eye. He leaned into the room and craned his neck to see what it was, immediately recognizing the stark orange feathers and stickies that Sorey used as bookmarks in the Celestial Record. Confused, he padded over to it, realizing that it had been removed and put back in a different place. He took it gingerly off the shelf, feeling the familiar weight in his hands as if it were a brick. He wasn’t sure why, but he decided to take it with him this time, sliding it carefully into his bag before hurrying out the door.

 

He felt bad about leaving his family in Elysia again so soon, especially when he hadn’t really spent any time with them, but they understood that what he was doing was important. Soon the party was on their way back to Lady Lake, Mikleo using the travel time to brief them on what he had learned via Gramps’ book. By the time they stopped to camp for the night, everybody knew their part in Mikleo’s elaborate plan. 

 

“Do you think I made it this complicated on purpose, Edna? Because if you have a better idea I would love to hear it.” Mikleo barked at the earth seraph from the other side of the campfire. 

 

“Now, now, Mikleo,” Lailah placated him, “We all know you did your best. It’s not your fault that the hydra is a very complex creature to deal with.” He crossed his arms, pouting, and Presea laughed quietly from her spot next to Edna. Mikleo was suddenly reminded of their disheveled state earlier in the day.

 

“What were you two doing while I was gone earlier?” he asked, genuinely concerned. It was important to look after the welfare of the Shepherd, after all. 

 

The smile dropped off of Presea’s face and Edna patted her on the shoulder. “That’s a rude question, Meebo. But if you must know, we were discussing the ramifications of being faced with a sibling who does not recognize you anymore.”

 

Oh. Right. Alicja. “I’m sorry Presea, I-” he started, but Presea cut him off.

 

“It’s alright, really. I’m just glad that she’s… okay. I guess. I mean, she seems happy. Doesn’t she?” She looked to be on the verge of breaking down again, so Mikleo put on his best face.

 

“Yeah. Yes, she must be very happy. The seraphim in Elysia are great, I’m sure they are treating her well.” He hoped she took comfort in the fact that he grew up there, so he knew what he was talking about. 

 

Zaveid walked over in that moment, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Alright kids, time for some shut-eye. Mom and I over here will take the first shift, then Edna and Mik-boy, capiche?” 

 

“Zaveid! I told you not to call me that!” Lailah yelled, but she laughed anyway. Then the two of them were off. Presea decided that it was a good time for her to go to sleep, so the two remaining seraphim stowed themselves away in her headspace while they waited for their turn to be on watch duty. 

 

Lailah’s presence alerted them when it was time, and they exited Presea’s sleeping body. They could see the lights of Lady Lake twinkling below them from their campsite on the hill, and Mikleo took a few moments to appreciate the view. If he hadn’t known that a monster such as the hydra was lurking beneath that very city, he never would have guessed it. Edna sighed behind him and plopped down on a fallen tree, resting her chin on the handle of her umbrella. “You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?” she asked the back of his head.

 

After a brief pause he turned to look at her, brows knitted together in confusion. “What are you talking about?” he answered. 

 

She patted a spot on the trunk next to her, telling more than asking him to sit down. He did so, and she turned to look him in the eye, face serious. “When you and Sorey were growing up, Lord Zenrus told you that there used to be many Shepherds at a time, right?”

 

“Yes, that’s why Uno and I started the training school in Lady Lake.”

 

“Well, before Eizen… transformed, he used to tell me stories about his travels, way back before I existed. He never mentioned the hellion by name, but I believe that one of his buddies ran into a hydra once. They’re powerful beings, Mikleo.” She paused to see if he was following, and continued upon seeing the rapt expression on his face. “His friends’ group was travelling with two Shepherds and three Squires, at the time, as well as a handful of seraphim. Somehow, one of them knew what to do to defeat it; they forced itself to cut off its own claw so that they could use it as a weapon against it. 

 

“Now, this hydra was fairly well-developed, from Eizen’s description, so I can’t begin to fathom how many souls it had taken hostage. In a long, long battle, they managed to narrow it down to the original hellion and seraph. There was a problem, then. If they defeated the hellion first, the seraph would no doubt turn into a dragon. If they defeated the seraph first, the hellion would absorb its powers, becoming some hideous, extra-hellish monstrosity. Neither of those options would work very well, as you can see. So they came up with a different plan.”

 

“Is this why you were criticizing me earlier?” Mikleo asked, but Edna waved him quiet.

 

“Because there were so many Shepherds in the world at that time, the two decided that they would sacrifice themselves, killing and purifying both hellion and seraph at the same time. That seems to be a thing with Shepherds. They always have to sacrifice themselves for somebody else.” She sighed, and Mikleo felt a warm hand on his knee. “Do you hear what I’m saying, Mikleo? That was two Shepherds, three Squires… we have one Shepherd and no Squire.”

 

The reality of what Edna was saying suddenly hit Mikleo and he felt sick to his stomach. He shook his head, ignoring the very likely possibility that she had just laid before him. “No, Presea is strong, and this hydra isn’t nearly as big as that one.”

 

Her hand gripped at his knee harder, the other gripping her umbrella handle with equal force. “I didn’t want to tell you, because was worried you would do something stupid, like try to postpone this fight, or try to drag another Shepherd into it. Look, Presea can defeat this thing, I know she can- but whether or not she makes it out afterwards is an entirely different story.” 

 

The sick feeling in Mikleo’s stomach reached his throat and he leaned over behind the tree trunk and hurled. Edna held his hair out of his face and rubbed his back gently. “Mikleo, I’m sorry, but there’s a reason I’m telling you this now. I know what went through your mind with Sorey. ‘If only I had been stronger,’ you think. I’m telling you this so you know that it is not your fault, and there is and was nothing you could have done to prevent this.” Mikleo wiped at his mouth and sat up again, and Edna took his clean hand in one of her own.

 

“You are strong enough, Mikleo. Okay?”

 

Mikleo was sick again. 

 

The two of them spent the rest of their watch period in companionable silence, filled occasionally with brief comments. Mikleo had grown to really enjoy Edna, even if she was always teasing him about something. She knew when to be serious, and he appreciated that. They tried to keep their minds off of tomorrow’s battle. It felt like Lastonbell all over again. He had known Presea almost as long as he had known Sorey when they had headed off to Camlann, not knowing whether they would live or die. Mikleo missed him terribly. Edna spoke a little of Eizen, confessing that she thinks he would have liked Sorey. Mikleo joked that it was difficult to not like Sorey. 

 

When the sun rose over Lady Lake they returned to camp and woke Presea. Half an hour later, the party was ready to go, and they made their way out of the Aroundight Forest and into the rolling hills of Lakehaven Heights. Mikleo’s mind was abuzz with different thoughts and questions. He played out scenarios in his head, of ways that Presea could make it through this, of what he would do when she didn’t… He wondered if she knew what her chances were. Had Edna told her? Is that what they were discussing aside from Eizen and Alicja? 

 

Alicja. He wondered if Presea would come back as a seraph. Some Shepherds did, because of the purity of their hearts. If she did, would she remember Alicja? Alicja didn’t remember her. Would they grow up beside each other, never knowing what they were to each other in a past life? 

 

Would Sorey remember him?

  
The group was quiet as the gates of Lady Lake came into view. They knew what they had to do. They had a plan. Mikleo hoped desperately that it worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to finish this before I go back to school on the 15th...


	9. Now or Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this chapter is somewhat more violent (?) than the others. Nothing explicit, but there is blood and descriptions of death.

They could practically taste the malevolence in the air when they entered the city, and Mikleo was reminded of how sick he had felt when he first came to Lady Lake with Sorey. By now he had lived beside malevolence long enough that such an amount had little effect on him, aside from turning his stomach a bit. Despite this, the citizens continue to bustle about, completely unaware of the dark cloud hanging over them. Mikleo wondered if humans would be able to sense malevolence when they were finally able to communicate with the seraphim, and if they would make the choice to consciously reduce it. If they could do that, then they wouldn’t have to rely on a Shepherd to save them anymore, and maybe the world could enter a state of peace. 

 

Presea forced her way through the crowd, calling out apologies as she hurried to the sanctuary. There the party was greeted by a handful of Mikleo’s students, looking haggard and distressed. They explained that Uno had lent his power to them in order to quell the smaller hellions that were attracted by the mass of malevolence in the chapel, and, additionally, had forbade entry by any human or seraph until Mikleo’s group had returned. As of yet, they did not believe that Uno had been corrupted in any way. 

 

“That makes sense,” Mikleo observed as the group outside wished Presea luck. “Uno has fallen victim to malevolence before, no doubt he is more likely to resist it this time.”

 

“And I’m sure that all the support from local Shepherds doesn’t exactly hurt, either,” Lailah mentioned. Mikleo hummed in agreement, shutting the large sanctuary doors behind them. 

 

The mood in the party was tense, each member obviously occupied with their own thoughts. Mikleo took a deep breath and addressed them. “Okay, last chance to check your supplies, make sure you know the plan, ready your weapons, that sort of thing.” He glanced around and caught Edna’s eye, something in her expression dropping his heart into his stomach. Her gaze flickered over to Presea, who was focused on preparing herself internally. Mikleo looked at the other seraphim and found that they were pointedly looking away from him. 

 

So they all knew, but did Presea?

 

Would she back out if he told her now? 

 

His thoughts were interrupted by Zaveid, who cleared his throat. “Okay kids, it’s now or never.”

 

The walk down to the inner chamber was eerily quiet. Uno was nowhere to be seen, but the back room where he and Mikleo held lessons was covered in a thick blanket of purple dust. Mikleo wiped at some on his desk as he walked by and it stuck to his sleeve, the clean area quickly overtaken once again, as if he had never touched it. He grimaced and wiped the substance from his sleeve onto his pants. 

 

As they broke the seals on their way to the hydra the malevolence increased exponentially, and Mikleo was surprised the sheer acidity of it hadn’t corroded some of the columns that held the room together. Lailah suggested that they re-seal the doorways behind them, so that the malevolence could not escape into a higher level and cause trouble for the guards outside. There was unanimous agreement, but Mikleo couldn’t help the chill creeping up his spine with the realization that they were essentially locking themselves in with the hydra. 

 

“Oh hell,” Zaveid murmured from beside him. Mikleo followed the wind seraph’s gaze and saw just what he had expected - but had hoped wouldn’t come true. The hydra had broken through the first five barriers that had been set and was angrily throwing itself against the next one a few corridors ahead of them. Steam had filled the rooms that the creature had gained access to, and the party realized with horror that the hellion was literally boiling with rage. 

 

“How lovely,” Edna sighed, “I don’t particularly enjoy the idea of being boiled alive, so let’s all follow the plan and be extra cautious, hm?”

 

“Right,” Presea answered with a gulp. Her voice was shaking; Mikleo couldn’t blame her. He watched her take the talon they had found out of a holster on her hip. The plan itself, despite Edna’s complaints, was relatively simple - it was actually accomplishing the thing that was the problem. As per what they had learned, the plan was this: Presea would armatize with Zaveid, the fastest of the seraphim present, and use the claw to carve souls out of the face, one by one. During this time, of course, Lailah, Edna, and Mikleo would have to work to distract the hydra so that it wouldn’t be able to focus on Presea. Once they freed each soul, Lailah would turn her attention to purifying them, and Mikleo and Edna would continue their sensory barrage. When only the original two souls remained, the goal was to purify the seraph, then quell the hellion.

 

That was the part that Mikleo was worried about. He had no doubts about Presea and Zaveid’s ability to outmaneuver the hydra and release the souls, and he had seen Lailah purify her fair share of hellions and humans, but after that, nothing was certain. When they managed to split Lunarre and Symmone, there was an enormous chance that Symmone would dragonize right then and there, and Presea was nowhere near experienced enough to win against a dragon. On the other hand, there was an equally strong chance that Lunarre would manage to escape, locate another seraph, and form another hydra. 

 

But there was nothing they could do about that now, they would just have to try their best and see where it went. That was the part that kept gnawing at the back of Mikleo’s mind; he was never a fan of not knowing. Sorey had always reassured him that everything would work out alright, like he had that night in Lastonbell, but the comforting presence was no longer there. He was busy, making sure that he kept his promise to Mikleo - that everything would turn out alright. For now, Mikleo just had to roll with it. 

 

And roll with it he would. Literally. 

 

While he had been distracted by his thoughts, Lailah had removed the another barrier. Across the corridor, the hydra broke through the last remaining seal, charging at the group. If Edna hadn’t knocked him out of the way, he would have been trampled. He took a steadying breath; now was not the time to get distracted. Distantly he heard Presea shouting “Wirukun Zavie,” and he knew it was time to get to work. 

 

Presea and Zaveid had surprisingly good luck separating souls with the hydra talon, using the ornate construction of the chambers to their advantage and bouncing off the walls and columns just ahead of the hydra’s grasp. It stumbled slightly when a soul was removed, allowing them a few moments to retreat. In that brief pause Lailah would purify or quell the released seraph, human, or hellion. Unfortunately, many of those who were not originally hellions emerged tainted beyond saving, and it felt more like a slaughterhouse than anything purifying. If bodies had remained after purification, Mikleo could only imagine the piles of them he would be stepping over as he moved. 

 

They were getting down to the last few souls, and although the hydra was growing weaker, it was also growing angrier. It began to lash out and flail in all directions, no longer aiming just for the Shepherd. A long, distorted arm flew out and hit Edna square in the stomach, knocking her backwards into the wall. Mikleo, preoccupied with defending Lailah, halted his artes for a second to search the rubble with his eyes. A clunky boot kicked a boulder out of the way, but Mikleo’s sigh of relief was cut short when a limb from the opposite direction slammed against his upper back, knocking the wind out of him and sending him face-first into the ground. 

 

He heard Lailah shouting for both him and Edna, shoving himself up on shaking arms just in time to see a blast heading straight for Lailah. “Shit - Ice Reaver!” he yelled. At the same time that ice shears sprouted up in front of Lailah, a block of earth under her feet shot upward, sending her skyrocketing to safety. Mikleo breathed out a sigh of relief, letting his face fall briefly back into the dust beneath him. Presea dropped down next to him, physically lifting and dragging him backwards. A heavy claw came down where he had just been laying. 

 

“We’re down to the last three,” she panted, “Get ready.” She took off again, leaving Mikleo to wipe the blood from his nose as he stood. At the far end of the chamber, Lailah was buzzing around Edna as she wiped dust off the hem of her dress. On Presea’s signal, Lailah positioned herself strategically against the far wall, preparing to purify the first victim of the hydra. Presea shoved off the wall and whistled past Mikleo, hydra claw held steadfast in front of her like the tip of a bullet. It sank easily into the mutilated flesh that made up the hydra’s face, splitting it open like a plaster mask. The light that emerged from the crack was blinding and Mikleo instinctively covered his eyes. 

 

He heard a harsh thud accompanied by a particularly shrill shriek from the hydra and lowered his hand, blinking the stars out of his eyes. When he squinted he could make out a dark shape lying crumpled at the hydra’s feet, smoking as though it had been on fire. The stench of death hit him so suddenly that he flinched. At the same time, the hydra took off down the corridor towards the center chamber, followed immediately by Presea, along with Zaveid, and Edna. Lailah and Mikleo made brief eye contact before rushing over to the charred, lumpy figure. 

 

Mikleo made it there first, dropping to his knees and hovering over what seemed to be the head, unsure of what to do with his hands. He could tell just by looking that whoever or whatever this used to be that there was no life left, so healing artes would be virtually useless. His hands were still dangling awkwardly in the air when Lailah knelt beside him, a calming presence to his confused, jumbled mind. She gently moved the body so that it was lying on its back, and Mikleo recognized it instantly. Aside from the peeled, blackened flesh, aside from the face twisted in anguish, aside from the hair that had burned clean off, he recognized him. 

 

Abel’s clear, unblinking eyes stared up at the ceiling. His irises had been burned clear through, and a part of Mikleo was disturbed to be reminded of Dezel. He turned away from Lailah and heaved, but nothing came out. Instead he was left coughing while Lailah went through the motions of purifying Abel’s body, both of them knowing full and well that the actions were meaningless. Abel was dead and, most likely, in some sort of hell. And it was Mikleo’s fault. Mikleo couldn’t save him.

 

He thought again to what Edna had said the other night and a chill went down his spine, freezing him where he was. His head snapped up to look at Lailah, who looked as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. In a split second he had scrambled to his feet and was running down the hallway, Lailah at his heels.

 

“Mikleo! You know you can’t do anything!” she shouted, snatching at his sleeve. He tugged his arm away from her.

 

“I have to do something! I can’t believe nobody told me earlier! I would never have let her-”

 

“It’s not a matter of you letting her!” she shouted again, the volume directed piercingly at him instead of just being loud so he could hear. The fierce tone stopped him in his tracks and he turned around, wide-eyed. Lailah had never yelled at him before, but her face showed that it pained her as much as it startled him. “Stop doing this to yourself! None of this is your fault! The world has been like this since before you were born, and sometimes things happen that you… that you can’t do anything about! Shepherds die, Mikleo. Shepherds vanish. It just… happens!” 

 

Her anger broke into tears and all at once Mikleo remembered every Shepherd that had ever left Lailah on her own. It seemed like whenever she was a Prime Lord, Shepherds sacrificed themselves for the good of the world, and left her behind. And Mikleo was here, blaming himself, for things that happened to her all the time.

 

But that… “That’s different, Lailah! Your Shepherds disappear because you’ve made them strong enough that they don’t have to fight anymore! My… my Shepherds disappear because I can’t protect them! That’s why I have to save her!”

 

“Mikleo! There’s nothing you can do!” She grabbed for his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, turning once more and running.

 

“I have to try!”

 

Lailah fell to her knees and watched him go.

 

His footsteps echoed down the hallway as he ran, but the only thing he could hear was his own heavy breathing in his ears. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he was going to do something. He couldn’t let Presea throw away everything her life could be. She could get married, have a family, have grandchildren, all the things that Rose and Alisha never did, never could do. A crash sounded ahead of him and had him sprinting around the corner, skidding across the floor and nearly hitting the other wall. 

 

Edna saw him out of the corner of her eye and gritted her teeth, snapping her wrist and erecting a wall between them. It was for the best, just like killing Eizen. It was for the best. “Zaveid, Presea, you have to do it now!” she yelled. She could hear Mikleo screaming at her from the other side of the wall. It was for the best. “It’s for the best, Mikleo!” she shouted back.

 

“Edna! Edna please!” Mikleo shouted back, voice broken and wet. Edna felt her own throat tighten and squeezed her eyes shut.

 

“Zaveid, Presea, now!” she screamed, breaking down into a sob. 

 

And with that the armatus broke. Zaveid mock-saluted Presea as he was propelled away by the force of their separation. “It’s been real, Sheps,” he called out to her, wind-stepping so that he landed near Edna. With a hand on her shoulder he signaled her to take down the wall - at this point, there was nothing to be done.

 

Mikleo burst through the opening, eyes wild and face streamed with tears. He caught sight of Presea and his stomach dropped. There she stood, blonde hair falling wildly over her shoulder, Shepherd’s cloak whirling with the force of the energy the hydra was emitting. One of her hands was resting on the side of the hydra’s face gently, like a caress. It boiled. The other gripped the hydra claw so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Presea! Presea no! There has to be another way!”

 

She turned to him, eyes sad, but with no more tears to cry. “I’m doing this for everyone, Mikleo. For you, for Rose, for Alicja… for everyone.”

 

“That’s bullshit! What about you? What about your life?” he shouted, fists falling violently to his sides. 

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll have my life, Master Mikleo,” she said softly. She smiled at him before turning back around to the hydra, “I’ll have mine.” She closed her eyes.

 

Mikleo could hear somebody screaming. Or maybe that was him. Maybe he was screaming. He was rushing forward towards Presea when another blinding light erupted from the hydra. He caught the full force of it and was knocked back onto his ass, and then everything was dark. He heard people calling his name, but he wasn’t important right now. There was a little blonde girl with incredibly high resonance that needed his help. And he would damn well crawl to her if he needed to.

 

He blinked once, twice. Nothing. The rubble under his hands was slick and digging into his skin in a way that made him unsure if it was water, blood, or both. But he scrambled over it anyway, entirely blind, until he felt the familiar cloth of the Shepherd’s cloak beneath his fingers. He blinked again, rapidly, and managed to regain some of his sight. It was blurry, dark - like looking through a cotton shirt pulled tight around his eyes. It didn’t matter. He saw what he needed to see. 

 

His fingers traced the hydra claw protruding from Presea’s abdomen. It was sharp enough that she shouldn’t have felt a thing. It slid out easily, blood rushing from the now-open wound. Mikleo grabbed her by the lapels of her cloak and hauled her torso upwards, cradling her head against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, rocking her back and forth, “I’m so sorry, Presea. I should have been stronger for you.” He moved her bangs gently out of her face and leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. After that he became incoherent, sobbing into the hair at the crown of her head and whispering apologies on repeat. 

 

Somebody shuffled rocks behind him and a soft hand placed itself on his shoulder. “Mikleo,” came Lailah’s soft voice from above him. There was a pause that indicated that she wasn’t sure what to say next. That was okay, Mikleo wasn’t sure he would be able to listen anyway. Instead, he focused on the calming tap of Zaveid’s boots on the marble floor. He was pacing, probably running the ordeal through his head again. Edna was quiet. She was holding her parasol loosely in one hand, rolling it across the dust on the floor.

 

They stayed in the underground chamber for a long time. Mikleo replayed Presea’s entire life over in his head. It was Edna who decided that they should leave, suggesting that they inform the messenger and the Shepherds upstairs of the development. It was also Edna who managed to coax Mikleo away from Presea’s body, letting him rest his cheek on her head as she led him down the hallway. Zaveid and Lailah trailed behind them, carrying the Shepherd and her cloak, respectively. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

Mikleo didn’t speak for a few days. His classes resumed with Uno at the head, but he remained in the older part of the castle with Edna, Lailah, and Zaveid. He spent the majority of his time sitting at the kitchen table, long-cold mug of tea still trapped in his fingers. Lailah had tried to stay with him at first, but cabin fever got the best of her and she opted to checking on him a few times a day instead. In addition, she took it upon herself to plan Presea’s funeral, and would keep him updated, even though he would never reply. 

 

Edna had taken up post beside Mikleo instead, and had raided the royal library for modern romance novels to keep her company. She had brought old texts that she thought Mikleo might like as well, but they sat in a short pile next to his elbow, unopened. Edna didn’t mind, she just continued reading her own books. Every once in awhile she would take his mug of tea from him and reheat it, or dump it out and pour a new one if dirt had fallen in the mug. 

 

A few weeks managed to pass by in this way. Edna was ten pages from the end of a trashy dime store novel when Mikleo finally spoke. 

 

“Why wasn’t I strong enough?” he asked quietly, voice scratchy from disuse.

 

Edna blinked at him from behind her paperback before setting it on the table in front of her. “What makes you say that?” 

 

He sighed, his body loosening with the movement as if he was melting. “You know what I mean. Why wasn’t I strong enough to save Sorey? To save Presea?”

 

“Sorey isn’t dead, Mikleo. You didn’t need to save him, you just have to wait for him.” Mikleo opened his mouth to protest but Edna shushed him. “And Presea… strength has nothing to do with that. I couldn’t save Eizen, does that make me weak? Lailah couldn’t save her Shepherds, is she weak?” She paused, watching Mikleo’s expression closely. “Sometimes strength isn’t saving someone, it’s letting them go.”

 

Mikleo stared into his tea, lips pursed and brows knitted together. “But-” he started, then halted.

 

“There’s no ‘buts’ in this,” Edna said sternly before picking up her novel again. “And besides,” she said again, not looking at him, “I can’t let my little Meebo get all mopey again.” 

 

He spit out the little bit of tea he had sipped. “Seriously, Edna?” She merely shrugged and returned to her book.

 

The four of them stayed together during the week of Presea and Abel’s funerals. Abel’s wife had spent the entirety of his ceremony caught between staring daggers at Mikleo and sobbing over his casket - closed, since there wasn’t technically a body to be buried. At the close of the month, the group had attended a total of four funerals and had done their own small ceremony for Symmone, who just happened to be an unfortunate pawn in the Lord of Calamity’s game, a position that made her vulnerable to all kinds of malevolence. She had still been a young seraph, older than Mikleo, sure, but not by much. Mikleo couldn’t help but feel she had been taken advantage of. Soon after her ceremony, however, Zaveid was called away on important business matters - though what his “business” consisted of, Mikleo wasn’t sure. Edna accompanied him on this trip, and the two of them promised to return bearing gifts. Lailah returned to her position as the Lady of the Lake, and spent her time in the sanctuary assisting Uno with Shepherd training while Mikleo remained on his (adamantly suggested) vacation. 

 

For the next few months, Mikleo edited and polished his retelling of Sorey and Rose’s journeys. He added a short but meaningful section on the end, detailing Presea’s painfully brief time as a Shepherd as well. By the time he finally deemed his work finished he had written hundreds of pages, as easy-flowing as a fairy tale but as informative as a manuscript. He wasn’t sure what to do with it at first, so he decided to take it to Lailah and Uno and ask if they would read over it as well. They approved wholeheartedly, and Mikleo was well on his way to becoming a published author. 

 

Unfortunately, he soon grew restless in Lady Lake. He had spent decades of his life in the city, and the constant throngs of people drained him of his energy. It was a monotonous day-to-day routine that had him feeling trapped - and now that Alisha and Rose were gone, he really was trapped, forced to inhabit the older, lower portions of the castle so as to not disturb or frighten the royals that had taken his friends’ places on the throne. He had been through every text in the library, even the romance novels that Edna had left behind. He couldn’t bring himself to return to his classes, fearing that seeing the young, blissfully ignorant faces of the unknowing Shepherd hopefuls would break the heart that he was so carefully trying to piece back together. And so he decided it was time for a change of scenery. 

 

He left a note for Lailah and Uno, not wanting to disturb them at the time of night which he had decided to leave. The spontaneity reminded him of Sorey, rushing forward to protect Alisha from whatever unknown danger plagued her. The sturdy heels of his boots clicked against the cobblestone as he made his way down the stairway by the inn. He paused momentarily to admire the waterwheel, crystal clean water still looking graceful as it sloshed around in the wooden buckets that captured it. The dull gold of the mechanics glimmered in the moonlight, although it was easily outshone by the stars and galaxies that littered the sky above. Another thing about this night to remind him of Sorey - it was as if the stars had shined for him that night.

 

It was no doubt that Lady Lake held an incredible amount of memories for Mikleo. He and Sorey had first met Rose here, alongside the Sparrowfeathers. Who knew that the merchant girl would turn into such a powerful ally and friend? Sorey had become the Shepherd here, of course, and that alone would have made the city special, but Sorey had also become a lot more in the time he spent here. He had grown into all of his selfless ideals, and had allowed Mikleo to force his way in a grow beside him. He remembered how worried Sorey had been about letting Mikleo become his Sub Lord, about him getting hurt or getting in over his head. Mikleo was glad he had had the chance to prove him wrong.

 

They had fought Medusa there, they had suffered through the loss of Sorey’s resonance there and regained it in the nick of time. Zaveid had dragged them to the hot springs there, and they had actually had a good time. Even after Sorey had gone to sleep, Mikleo had lived there with Rose and Alisha. He met Abel, and Presea… he’d lost Abel and Presea. And now he was setting out to leave the city behind, on a night almost identical to the one that had started this whole thing. He affectionately patted the railing in front of the waterwheel before he turned on his heel and made his way towards the bridge. It felt silly, but he wanted to make sure the city knew just how much he appreciated it. 

  
If he was completely honest with himself, he had no idea where he was going to go from there. He would feel bad exploring the world without Sorey, but he also worried that many of today’s ruins would be completely dilapidated by the time Sorey awoke and he wouldn’t be able to enjoy them. It was that thought, that Sorey would miss out on so many things, that eventually drove him to seek out the oldest ruins in Glenwood. He had plenty of time to take every detail down on paper, to draw every fresco, before the earth reclaimed the temples as its own. But for now he would remain in Glenwood - he would wait for Sorey to cross the ocean with him. And besides. Between Rolance and Hyland, there were plenty of ruins to be explored. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I sincerely hope this doesn't feel rushed. It isn't the end, but I had had a few different ideas and I wasn't entirely sure which one I wanted to go with. This might end up being 11 or 12 chapters; I want people to know that the story is actually going somewhere with a point. I love Edna you guys. I want to see more of how she coped with losing Eizen, because in-game its pretty brief. Also I never even thought about how Lailah must feel about all her Shepherds dying early deaths? Okay this note is long enough bye.


	10. Years and Years

Mikleo became a sketch artist of sorts over the next few centuries. He found himself retracing the steps of the Shepherds’ journeys which he had been a part of, exploring the now malevolent-free ruins in far greater depth than they had had time to when they were there originally. He mapped the crumbling passageways in great detail, taking note of which columns were most likely to collapse next and which halls would likely be unsurpassable in time. He had started on the opposite side of the continent, exploring Aifread’s Hunting Grounds in southern Rolance first. The plan was to slowly make his way back towards Elysia and Lady Lake, and if he took his time and carefully documented everything he could, then maybe - just maybe - Sorey would be awakening by the time he returned. 

 

While he was so close to Pendrago he couldn’t help but visit Sergei’s grave. The inscription on the white stone honored him as the key figure in ending the war with Hyland, as well as being a fair and just leader to his troops, and a beloved father. He wondered if Sergei’s children had the same sense of righteousness as he did, or the same loud, stubborn personality. The thought of two mini Strelkers running around, causing havoc while they tried to bring justice, made him smile. He went on with his business in the city then, and eventually moved on, never returning to say farewell. Death was a concept that Mikleo still struggled with, even after all these years. 

 

At first he tried to simply not think about his friends that had died, but bottling up his emotions turned out to be a bad idea. This realization hit him when he was wading through an old crucible, knees deep in dark-tinted water. The floor had rushed over the old blood that caked the walls and floor and brought it eerily back to life, seeping out from the old stones and mingling with the water that Mikleo was now knee-deep in. He was sketching the inside of the structure with a small piece of charcoal, doing his best to ignore the scent of death that pervaded the room. He pressed on the page a bit too hard, and the charcoal snapped in his fingers, falling with a splash into the murky water. And he cried, suddenly and violently. 

 

Every bit of grief he hadn’t let himself feel for years came rushing back to him, and the catalyst was a piece of dropped charcoal. It was absurd, but he let himself think of every sad thing that had happened to him and everyone he knew and he let himself cry. He sat there, only a few steps above a congealing pool of watery blood, for nearly half an hour. When he was done he took a deep breath and ascended to the exit of the crucible, planning to return tomorrow and finish his sketch. The episode told him that he had to address his emotions as they came to him, or else he would end up sobbing over an accidentally crumpled sheet of notebook paper or a bug dying on the side of the road. 

 

Mikleo grew and the world grew with him. Ever so slowly, more and more people were able to communicate with seraphim - though they were frightened to death at first. Seraphim, in turn, began to integrate themselves slowly into the human world, tending to gather first in churches and sanctuaries where they were more likely to be welcomed. Mikleo was at a bar one night, knocking back a couple drinks after a particularly depressing day, when a shriek from behind him startled him to his feet and he whipped around to face the noise. A middle-aged woman was running towards him, face shocked and excited, while his must have been wildly confused. She stopped in front of him and dug into her bag, pulling out a book that Mikleo didn’t recognize. It was beautifully bound in leather that had been scrubbed and finished with a lacquer that turned it powder blue. It was quite thick, but the woman’s copy looked as if it had been read through a hundred times - pages were dog-eared, notes stuck out of various places, and the spine was broken in multiple places.

 

“Its really you!” the woman exhaled, still catching her breath from her hustle over to him.

 

“...Huh?” he replied eloquently.

 

She flipped to the back of the text and pushed the book into his face, forcing him to step back to see properly. He blinked a bit in the low light and was greeted with an excellent rendition of his own face. “H-huh?” he said again, taking the book from the woman’s hands. He turned it over the look at the front cover and gasped. Etched there in beautiful calligraphy were the words “Untitled: A Shepherd’s Journey in Three Parts.” He skipped the first couple of pages until he reached the dedication page, and there it was: his dedication to Sorey. Beneath that, however, was a short paragraph he didn’t recognize. 

 

“Dedicated also to Edna, who is the only reason that Meebo actually had this book published instead of letting it sit in his dresser drawer for the next five centuries. Lailah too. But not Zaveid.” 

 

“Oh my god,” he found himself muttering, but the woman was shoving something else into his face. It was a pen.

 

“My grandma used to tell me stories about growing up in Lady Lake with the mysterious Shepherd Training School and the handsome young man who ran it, but she said he disappeared one day and never returned! And then I saw this book on the shelf at my son’s university and something drew me to it and I had to have it, and I’ve read it so many times through I’ve practically memorized it, and now you’re here! In front of me!” She finally paused for a breath before somewhat composing herself, clearing her throat and smoothing her skirt. “Would you please sign it for me?”

 

Mikleo was stunned - stunned that Edna had published his book and nobody had told him, and stunned that this woman had read it and wanted him to sign it. The look of joy on the woman’s face fell slowly, thinking that she had overstepped her boundaries by approaching him, but Mikleo noticed her expression and let out a nervous laugh. 

 

“Of course, yeah, I’ll sign it for you,” he said awkwardly. But the woman’s smile returned full-force anyway, and she hovered excitedly next to him at the bar as he scribbled his name on the inside cover. He handed it back to her and she hugged it like it was something precious.

 

“Thank you so much, my son will be so thrilled. It was really an honor meeting you,” she said before turning on her heel and hurrying back the way she came. Mikleo blinked a few times before ordering another four drinks and chugging them down like water. 

 

The next day he wrote a letter to Lailah, the only one of the three who maintained a permanent address, outlining his utter confusion upon being approached by a complete stranger as well as his bafflement that nobody had told him his book had been published. He did send his sincere thanks to them, however, along with well wishes and the hopes that he would see them soon. After he dropped it at the post office he headed to the local university’s library, easily finding the shelf where a dozen or so copies of his manuscript sat in a neat row, waiting for a student to purchase. He ran his hand along a couple of the spines, admiring their mint condition as compared to the woman’s ragged copy - but hers was beautiful in its own way, in that it had the beauty of being loved. 

 

He never got a reply from Lailah, but only because he had neglected to give her a return address. He would be headed out into the field again soon, after all. 

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

It took Mikleo quite a long time to fully explore what Rolance had to offer, and most of that time was spent, of course, alone. At times he was incredibly lonely, but now if he craved interaction that much, he could pop into the nearest town and have a good conversation with the bartender or the innkeeper and he would be good to go again. Had most people still been unable to see him, he could imagine the crushing sense of isolation that would have draped itself over him already. But even when he decided to retire from solitude for longer spans of time, from weeks to years, he never stayed in one place too long. He was afraid to grow too close to another human who would die on him. He was also terrified that Sorey would wake while he was away, but he knew that nobody would neglect to tell him that - it was a bit more important than publishing his book. 

 

The world continued to spin, and he continued to wait. 

 

People began to recognize him more and more often, almost all of them students in various archeology and history classes across the continent. He had even had people track him down in order to ask him to speak at their school, but he always declined, stating that he had explained everything as best he could in his book. They would ask if he was working on anything else and he would reply that yes, he was currently working on a project involving Rolance’s historic sites and no, they couldn’t read his drafts. Eventually, he sent his finished manuscript again to Lailah, who had become his unofficial editor. With her and Uno both in approval, they shipped it off to Edna. Nobody ever asked just how she managed to publish his first book, but she successfully repeated whatever the process had been and soon Mikleo saw his second novel alongside his first.

 

He pulled the book out of the shelf with little effort, the leather binding sliding easily against the freshly-dusted wood. The cover’s finish was darker than the first book, matching the colors of the Rolance Empire. Its elegant letters spelled out, “A (Not So) Brief Archeological History of the Rolance Empire.” Mikleo laughed - Edna would call it that. He flipped again to the dedications page and again saw his note to Sorey followed by a single line of text that read “Thanks Edna, Lailah, and Not Zaveid.” He rolled his eyes and set the book back in its place. 

 

That night he finally made his way back into Hyland. He had always missed it, somewhat, even though he no longer held ties to the political family. He decided to visit Lailah before beginning his research, considering it had been quite some time since he had seen her - a few hundred years, give or take. 

 

“Mikleo!” she exclaimed as he peeked his head into the back room of the sanctuary the next afternoon. The classroom was set up exactly as he had left it, except Lailah had taken to decorating the walls and ceiling with various posters and crafts that some of the younger children had made. A warmth blossomed through his chest as his eyes landed on the stacks of his own books at the front of the room before he was suddenly enveloped in an even warmer hug, courtesy of a certain fire seraph. She nearly crushed him against her chest before pulling back and squishing his cheeks together, taking in anything and everything about him that had changed. At the end of this inspection she spun him around to look at his hair.

 

“Taking some grooming tips from me, I see,” she joked, tossing her long ponytail over her shoulder.

 

“I would have to do quite a bit more grooming to come close to you, Lailah.” She faked embarrassment and hit him gently on the shoulder.

 

“You should have told me you were coming! I would have let Edna and Zaveid know. They miss you too, you know!” she scolded him before turning and walking over to Uno. Mikleo felt thirty pairs of eyes on him and stood awkwardly stiff where he stood. A few of the kids started whispering but Lailah shushed them. “Uno will be finishing today’s lessons, I’m having a bit of an emergency!” she called to the students as she grabbed Mikleo’s wrist and went out the door.

 

“An emergency? What emergency, Lailah?” he asked.

 

“An emergency lunch with a friend, of course!” she giggled, tugging him out of the sanctuary and into the streets. Yeah, Mikleo had missed her. 

 

He ended up staying with Lailah for much longer than he had planned, and even relented to her constant requests that he let her call for Zaveid and Edna, who she insisted would love to see him. It was nice to sleep in a real house again, even if it was on Lailah’s couch and not in a bed. He had been camping on the ground for centuries, and when he wasn’t camping he was on a worn, springy inn mattress. Plus, Lailah found him the fluffiest blanket she owned to use as a comforter, so he really couldn’t complain. 

 

Soon enough Edna and Zaveid showed up, in the middle of the night, the latter banging loudly on the door. “Mickey-boy! How dare you avoid me all these years! Can’t a guy get some love around here? Ow!”

 

“Shut up, people are sleeping,” Edna hissed at him as Mikleo stumbled to open the door. Zaveid threw himself at Mikleo the second it was open, taking them both to the floor in one smooth motion and knocking Mikleo’s air out of him. He heard Lailah’s surprised gasp as she rounded the corner and she soon came into his vision, upside down and giggling. 

 

“Oh my, Zaveid, are you drunk?” she asked. Mikleo groaned at the obvious question. Zaveid had his head resting on one of Mikleo’s shoulders and the rest of his body splayed above him, covering him from his chest to his knees, where Zaveid’s legs moved to either side. He was muttering something about missing his Mik-boy and celebrating his return. He smelled intensely of whiskey.

 

“We were out celebrating your return to Hyland, Meebo,” Edna hiccuped. It was obvious that she had had a few drinks as well, but she handled it much better than Zaveid seemed to, or had had much less. The observation was confirmed when she continued, “He challenged three humans to a drinking contest, claiming he could drink more than the three of them combined. He won. By a landslide.” She finally shut the door behind her and sat heavily on the couch. Lailah sat next to her, entirely too amused with the situation for Mikleo’s taste. Zaveid, finally somewhat composing himself, rolled off of Mikleo onto the floor next to him and dug around in a bag he’d been carrying. He pulled out a tall, thin, black bottle and set it heavily on Mikleo’s chest before he could sit up.

 

“Drink up, kiddo,” he slurred, popping the cap off with his thumb. 

 

Mikleo glanced at Lailah, then at the clock. It was a little past midnight. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose, and besides, he’d never been as shit-faced as Zaveid seemed to be in that moment. He took the bottle from Zaveid, who finally let him sit upright. Bright green cat eyes were painted on the side, above the alcohol content and a warning that pregnant women should not drink. 

 

“Brought it for ya cause it ‘minded me of Sorey,” Zaveid breathed next to him. The way he said Sorey’s name made a shushing noise. Mikleo scoffed.

 

“Sorey’s eyes are a much deeper green than this!” he replied, only partially feigning his offense.

 

Zaveid, in response, simply shrugged in a way the conveyed “whatever” and coaxed the bottle to Mikleo’s lips. As he was about to take a sip, Zaveid’s hand on his own made him pause. “Drink fast. Don’t try to taste it,” was the advice he was given, so Mikleo swung the bottle towards the ceiling and took a few fast gulps. 

 

His face twisted quickly into disgust and he held the bottle at arm’s length, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. “God,” he muttered, pondering the aftertaste on his tongue, “That was bitter.” Edna laughed.

 

“Zaveid forgot to mention that you’re supposed to distill it. It’s absinthe, there’s a whole fancy way of drinking the stuff,” she said nonchalantly. 

 

Mikleo glared at her. “Then why didn’t you tell me, since you seem to know?”

 

She shrugged, reaching across Lailah for the bottle, which Mikleo handed to her. After she took a swig she wiped her mouth and handed it back to him, motioning for him to take another drink. “It’s stronger this way,” she said when she was finished. Mikleo took another long gulp, shivering at the taste. Lailah reached out and touched his hand gently, face full of concern.

 

“You’ve had more drinks in the last two minutes than you’ve had in the last 50 years, Mikleo. Maybe you should slow down,” she said quietly. It was true, Mikleo never made a habit of drinking. He had seen his fair share of alcoholic fathers turned into hellions. But he was a seraph - and it’s not like he was going to get trashed on a regular basis. So he patted Lailah’s hand gently with his free hand in an attempt to soothe her.

 

“Aw, it’s just tonight Lailah. We’ll call it a celebration of my being a published author. And we didn’t get the chance to celebrate my first book, so now we have to have twice as much cheer.” A lame excuse indeed, since he truly just wanted to know what being wasted was like. It was an experiment of sorts. A way to learn about humans by behaving like one of them. That’s what he was telling himself. He didn’t mention that the fuzzy feeling of alcohol kept the sadness at bay, for however short of a time. He didn’t mention that he still struggled with his feelings of weakness and inadequacy, but why worry Lailah any more than she already was?

 

She sighed deeply, obviously worried, but retracted her hand anyway. Mikleo took it as an invitation to take a couple more swigs, tasting the bitterness less and less with each drink. Lailah stood from the couch and went into the kitchen, where he could hear her rustling around in one of her drawers. She returned only a moment later, pen in hand, and took Mikleo by the wrist, marking five tallies on the soft skin there. Mikleo looked at her inquisitively. 

 

“I’m keeping track of how much you’ve had. Zaveid’s been drinking for years, and look at him!” she exclaimed, gesturing to the man sprawled next to Mikleo on the floor, muttering to himself about angels with blue hair. Mikleo saw her point, and opted to wait a few minutes before drinking any more.

 

And, turns out, he would be glad he did. In the middle of a nonsense argument with Edna not five minutes later, the world began to swirl around him, and he had to catch himself on the edge of the coffee table. “Woah,” he muttered, and Zaveid was suddenly active again, surging to his hands and knees and crawling over next to Mikleo. 

 

“Check it out, Mickey’s feeling it,” he stage-whispered to Edna, who rolled her eyes at him. Lailah took a steadying breath beside her. 

 

“Shut up, I’m fine,” Mikleo pouted, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

 

“Oh, you’re fine are ya?” Zaveid cooed at him, “If you’re fine then you should take another swig, just to be safe.” He reached across Mikleo to grab at the bottle on the table, completely ignoring Lailah hissing his name. Mikleo, trying to keep up the front that he was fine, gladly accepted the liquor, pressing it to his lips and tipping it back till the bottom paralleled the ceiling. Zaveid whooped next to him, and Lailah gasped sharply.

 

“Mikleo!” she hissed, sounding very much like the mom friend she claimed not to be. Mikleo’s eyes were watering something fierce, and he blinked back a few stray tears before he could reply to her.

 

“Hey, I mean, it’s all gone now right? So it’s not like I can drink anymore?” Lailah’s head fell into her hands with a smack, Edna started laughing so hard she nearly cried, and Zaveid, drunk as he was, tried in earnest to defend the amount that Mikleo had had to drink, claiming it was important to his manhood - as important as “falling into bed with a lover,” he claimed. Mikleo wanted to show that he wasn’t even that drunk, so he pushed himself up using the coffee table, much more forcefully than intended, and wobbled dangerously before regaining his balance and standing unsteadily. He laughed nervously. “See, Lailah?” he breathed, taking a shaky step forward and tripping over his own foot. He was pleasantly surprised when he landed face first in something soft instead of busting his nose on the unforgiving oak of the table.

 

He felt somebody run a hand through his hair and assumed it was Lailah, relaxing into the softness his head was pillowed on. His entire body felt warm and tingly, the thoughts in his head muted as though travelling through cotton that wrapped around his brain. He very likely could have fallen asleep there if the hand that was carding through his hair hadn’t stopped to lift his head up by his chin. He blinked up hazily at the culprit and was met with blue eyes that were distinctly not-Lailah’s. 

 

“You okay down there, Meebo?” she chuckled. Mikleo got the distinct feeling that, had she been sober, she would have kicked his ass for having his face in her lap. Had he been sober, he probably would have sputtered and scrambled off of her, but the movement of his head made him nauseous and she wasn’t shooing him away, so instead he just groaned at her. “Wobbleo. Drunkleo…” Beside Mikleo Zaveid pulled another bottle out of the bag he had abandoned earlier and downed almost half of it in one go. He moved to hand it to Mikleo but Edna intercepted it, handing it to Lailah and muttering to her under her breath, “I think baby Meebo has had enough.” Lailah, still sober, gave her an exasperated look as Zaveid snatched the bottle from her hand and drank the rest of it.

 

“Zaveid,” Lailah whined, drawing out the “e” in his name. He smiled up at her, still managing to level somewhat successful bedroom eyes at her despite how much he had to drink. She rolled her eyes in response. “Okay, let’s get you to bed. To sleep. And only to sleep,” she sighed as she stood from the couch and grabbed Zaveid by the wrist. He was a dead weight, and Lailah ended up dragging him bodily into the bedroom where Mikleo could hear her scolding him for a few minutes before she gave up and made him go to sleep.  

 

In their absence Edna busied herself by running her hands over Mikleo’s face as if she was examining him. He closed his eyes and let her, only opening them when she finally spoke.

 

“So how are you?” she asked, voice soft. It reminded Mikleo of a lullaby.

 

“Drunk,” he answered. She smacked him gently upside the head.

 

“That’s not what I meant, dummy. I mean how are you, emotionally, mentally, you know.”

 

Mikleo paused for a moment before looking up at her, confused. “Why are you asking me this now?”

 

“Because I know if you were sober you would say you’re fine. But you worry us, you know. You’ve spent nearly two centuries alone. We haven’t seen you in how many years, and when you do show up, you don’t even tell us? So come on, spill it. You trusted me to publish your book, so you can trust me to know how you’re feeling.” 

 

“If we’re being honest, you published the first one without my permission,” he pointed out.

 

She laughed. “Whatever. Come on, sit on the couch,” she adopted a stereotypical doctor voice before continuing, “Tell me how you feel.”

 

He obliged her, pulling himself up slowly so the world wouldn’t spin around him and cause him to fall again. She ended up doing most of the work, tucking her hands under his arms and lifting him until he could slide his legs onto the cushions. When he was finally on the couch he tried to sit up so that he could look at Edna while he talked to her, but gravity had something else in mind, pulling against his liquid-like upper body until he was horizontal again. Edna laughed at him again as his head fell heavily back onto her lap. He was suddenly exhausted, and still very drunk, so he did something he would never do sober and curled up next to her, nuzzling the side of his face into her thighs until he was comfortable.

 

She looked like she couldn’t wait to rub that particular moment in his face later on, but quickly schooled her expression and got back down to business. “Okay, Kitty Meebo, spill the beans.” And for some reason, be it the alcohol, the late hour, or the fact that he hadn’t spoken to anyone about this in years, he couldn’t lie to her. 

 

He told her about his episode in the crucible and every similar episode ever since, about how he told himself that he would face his emotions when in reality he has just been ignoring them and completely tossing them away, not even bothering to bottle them up. He told her how this made him feel numb and he wasn’t completely sure if it was better or worse than feeling sad, and about how he couldn’t hold a decent conversation with anyone without having at least a couple of drinks because it was the only way he could forget about his weird inability to empathize with them. He explained that he had gone on this journey so that he could be stronger, but instead he felt as though he was stuck somewhere between mourning and acceptance, bouncing around but never fully landing on either one. He wasn’t good enough, and that’s why he never told them what he was doing, because they were out in the world being successful and he was out wasting his time. He still missed Sorey so much that it hurt, even though he had had centuries to come to terms with his absence. He was ashamed because he could have come much further than he was, but he hadn’t. He still felt terribly about himself even though, in reality, he knew that he had no reason to. 

 

“And that’s the worst part,” he mumbled into the now-damp fabric of her dress, “I’m a logical person. I know that how I feel isn’t rational, but I can’t stop myself from feeling that way.”

 

Edna had been quiet while he had stumbled and plodded over his train of thought, slurring his words along the way and occasionally stopping to heave a few sobs into the hem of her dress. Now that he seemed like he was finished she thumbed away a few stray tears on his cheek. “I know it doesn’t seem rational, but that’s how you feel. And if that’s how you feel, then your feelings are valid. I still get sad when I think about Eizen, and you know how long it’s been since he turned. I still blame myself - hell, I’m pretty sure Zaveid blames himself, too, and that’s why he won’t leave me alone.” That got Mikleo to smile a little, so she pressed on. 

 

“The point is, even if your feelings don’t make any sense to you, it doesn’t mean that they don’t serve a purpose. You get upset when you think about Presea, for example, because you know that she was a truly good person, and if fate had been kinder to her she would have done many more good things, but that just wasn’t part of her destiny. You’re upset because your brain is telling you to remember her act of kindness and bravery. If you weren’t sad about her being gone, then that would say a lot about what kind of person she was.” She paused, retracing her words in her head. “Am I making any sense? I can’t tell.”

 

Mikleo laughed quietly and nodded to reassure her.

 

“Okay, good, so let’s make a deal. You,” she pressed a finger to the skin between his eyebrows, “Come fricken visit every once in awhile. Stop worrying Lailah so much. And don’t ignore your emotions. You’re a smart kid, think more thoroughly about why you feel the way you do, and what you can do to change that. You say that you think Presea deserved better, but she’s gone now and you can’t bring her back, so, aside from a snippet in your book, really tell the world about her. Commission a statue next to Sorey’s and Rose’s, even. But you have to be active instead of passive. Got it?”

 

Mikleo nodded slowly, but paused and squinted up at her. “You said let’s make a deal. I don’t see your side of the deal coming into play here.”

 

Edna looked smug. “My side of the deal,” she said, ruffling his hair, “Is that I’ll help you keep up your side of the deal. Capiche?” 

 

“Mm. Fine,” he mumbled before yawning. “I’m tired, you’re on my bed, go away.”

 

“Ha! Please, have you seen the size of this couch? Do you think I’m sleeping on the floor - or squished between Lailah and Zaveid? No way.” She grabbed Lailah’s blanket from near Mikleo’s feet before nudging him to sit up and sliding her legs out from under him, pressing herself into the crack where the cushions met the back of the couch. She fished around above her head and found Mikleo’s pillow, smacking it a bit to fluff it before she told Mikleo to lay back down and spread the blanket over them. 

 

“Are you gonna wake up and beat me half to death for sleeping next to you?” Mikleo asked apprehensively. 

 

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Edna responded, but her tone was lighthearted. It was quiet for a moment before Mikleo had another question.

 

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

 

Edna turned onto her side so she was facing him. “I know where you’re coming from, that’s all. And besides,” she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead, so much like a mom that Mikleo almost laughed, “I promised Sorey I would take care of you for him.”

 

The next morning Mikleo woke up to the smell of bacon and also to a pounding headache. Edna was still asleep next to him, looking so serene that Mikleo dared not disturb her. He craned his neck to see Zaveid in the kitchen in front of the stove and Lailah stirring something on the counter next to him. They were whispering to each other and laughing, and Mikleo strained to hear them until his headache prevented him from concentrating anymore. He drifted in and out of sleep for a while, but eventually Lailah was gently shaking Edna and him awake for breakfast. 

  
The four of them ate together and Mikleo listened to Zaveid’s stories of what he and Edna had been doing, Edna interrupting every so often to offer commentary or correct him on something. Lailah had apparently been communicating with them the entire time, so she insisted that Mikleo tell them all what he had been up to. He mostly talked of things that weren’t in his book, like the interesting people he met - and that they could actually see him. For the first time in a long time, Mikleo felt like he had a family. After a few days it was time for them to part ways again, but Mikleo promised he would write and visit more often - and Edna threatened him with mild bodily harm if he didn’t. With that Mikleo headed back to the other side of Hyland, ruins and historical sites awaiting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Either one or two chapters left!


	11. Nature Will Reclaim

“Ah, fuck me!” Mikleo cursed, pulling his arm out of the trench he was attempting to investigate. Aftershocks of electricity surged through his forearm and he shook it in an attempt to will them away. Recently the humans had decided to harness electricity to power their various projects, and with no regard to the historical importance of any of the land they were building on, plowed through meadows and ruins with fervor. Mikleo had managed to grab hold of an electrical wire that he had apparently dug up during his excavation. He glared at the culprit with irritation. 

 

“Whatever,” he muttered to himself, standing and dusting his gloves off on his pants. One of the students asked him if he was okay, and he waved away their concern. “I’m going back to base camp for today,” he said to his colleague, a professor from the local university. “I don’t want any of the students digging around here until I can find out how to shut the power off.” With that he exited the field tent- a large white tarp nailed to the posts of various nearby buildings- and made his way to the small home that had been graciously lent out to him and his team. He had been working at this particular site for a few years now, and he had an inkling that there was nothing of importance here, but it was a good place for students to get field experience or college credit. Plus, staying in one place allowed easier communication with Edna, Lailah, and Zaveid. 

 

It had been almost five centuries since Sorey had gone to sleep. He still missed him, and he was anxious for him to wake up, but he had become accustomed to his absence as of late. Whenever he felt that nagging sadness creeping up on him, he would take some time away from his site and track Edna down, wherever she happened to be. They had become very close, and Mikleo was glad for it. The group had also agreed that they would all get together in Lady Lake twice a year, once in the winter and once in the summer, as a bare minimum amount of time to see each other. And so Mikleo went on with his life in a much healthier, more productive way. 

 

He had followed Edna’s advice and commissioned a statue for Presea soon after their original conversation, although she stood outside the sanctuary instead of by the gates to the city. Sorey and Rose provided nice symmetry there, and the sanctuary seemed a more fitting spot for Presea anyway. He had published his third novel, but had stopped writing afterwards, at least to that extent. He still wrote scholarly papers from time to time, but he had been to the other side of Glenwood and back so many times that he felt like he had covered all there was to cover. He still journaled for Sorey, though, although most of it was daily confessions of his desire for him to return, or silly little poems that he thought Sorey would appreciate. 

 

He arrived back at the old stucco house that served as base camp, nodding to a few students who were lounging lazily on the couch. When he was out of sight, however, he heard them whispering excitedly, hushed in such a way that they probably would have been inaudible to a human standing in his position. He paused at the bottom of the staircase, curious.

 

“Why don’t you just ask him?” one of them said.

 

“No way! That’s totally weird!” another hissed back, a hint of embarrassment in their voice. 

 

Mikleo had been asked some odd questions by students before, he was pretty sure whatever these kids had in mind wouldn’t be the weirdest thing someone had ever wondered about. 

 

“Yeah, don’t you think that’s a little invasive?” the third one chimed in, voice rising a pitch or two. The others shushed them. 

 

“What’s invasive?” Mikleo asked, curiosity getting the better of him as he popped his head back around the corner. The three of them jumped and turned towards him, each with equally impressive expressions of fear, embarrassment, and shame. Mikleo smiled in an attempt to put them at ease. “I’ve been around for a long time, I’ve been asked a lot of questions, what’s on your minds?”

 

The two on either end of the couch physically shoved the middle one forward, and they argued briefly among themselves. Mikleo took this time to lean against the wall comfortably, trying his best to look non-threatening. Sure, humans had been able to see seraphim for a while now, but that didn’t make approaching one any less nerve-wracking - especially when said seraph was signing off on your college credit. Then the one in the middle cleared his throat. 

 

“Er, Mikleo, sir. We were… well, we were wondering if…” he paused and took a breath before forcing out, “We were wondering if you and the Shepherd Sorey were romantically involved I’m sorry!”

 

Mikleo tilted his head a bit and blinked at the boy a few times before breaking out into a fit of laughter. “Hoo, man, the way you were trudging through that sentence I thought you were going to ask me about extra credit!” 

 

The students didn’t laugh, merely stared up at him. Mikleo wiped an imaginary tear out of his eye and sat down on the ottoman across from the three. “I’m curious; I never mentioned any such relationship in any of my books or publications, and as far as I know nobody has ever mentioned such a thing in scholarly interviews. Where did you get this idea?”

 

The students squirmed next to each other on the couch before the young man spoke up again. “Well, when we were waiting for the bus to pick us up and bring us here, there was a young woman and she was with this man, and they started talking about Shepherd Sorey and… well they noticed me eavesdropping and asked if I was curious about him, and I told them that I was going to be studying under you for the semester…” The boy paused, whether to breathe or to think over his next sentence Mikleo wasn’t sure. 

 

“Well, they got really excited, and they started asking me how much I knew about the Shepherd, even though I was the one that was listening in on their conversation before. They said that if I really wanted to know about Shepherd Sorey, that you were the person to ask, and then the man started laughing, and the woman hit him. They started to walk away, but before they were gone the man turned back around and… made kissy faces at me? Anyway, we uh, we were trying to figure out what he meant the entire way here.”

 

Mikleo found that he could easily imagine the entire encounter, knowing perfectly well who the pair talking to them was. He decided to turn this into a teachable moment. “Okay, and so you came to the conclusion that Sorey and I were involved in a romantic relationship, is that correct?” The trio nodded. “So, what evidence did you use to come to this conclusion? Where is the data? The research?”

 

The girl to the left spoke up. “Wait, are we right?” she asked, leaning forward conspiratorially. Mikleo mirrored her action and smirked.

 

“It’s not the scientific method if I tell you the answer,” he stage-whispered. Then he leaned back and spoke normally. “So, you’ve already got your research question, and, from what it sounds like, you already have your hypothesis. Now, do your research. Do experiments. Collect data. Analyze it. Then, come find me and let me know, and I will tell you whether or not your conclusions are correct.” With that he shoved himself off the ottoman and made his way up the stairs as he originally intended, leaving behind three gaping mouths and a challenge. 

 

Over the next couple of months he saw those students frequently, not abnormal considering the small, enclosed nature of the house and excavation site. Every once in awhile they would approach him with a question about the secondary research project he had unofficially assigned them, and he would help them the best way he could without handing them the answer. It was nearing the end of the excavation season when he received an urgent sounding call from Lailah.

 

“Oh! Mikleo, I’m glad I got a hold of you!” she said quickly on the other end when Mikleo finally answered. “Something has happened, and I’m not sure what it is, but I can’t go check because Uno is gone on business and I have to run the program! But it seems bad, I think it caused an earthquake! So can you check it out?” she asked, voice anxious. 

 

“Woah, hold on,” Mikleo said absently, still trying to take in the information she had dumped on him, “What do you mean ‘something has happened?’ In Lady Lake?”

 

There was a swishing noise on the other side of the line that had Mikleo thinking she was shaking her head in response. “No, something has happened near the Water Trial. Somebody said a wall came down, and they are worried about the structure.”

 

“Oh, that’s terrible,” Mikleo frowned into the receiver. He vaguely wondered what the Shepherds would do if the Water Trial collapsed upon itself.

 

“But there’s more than that!” Lailah continued excitedly. “Apparently the collapse revealed another chamber in the ruins! But, you’d better get out here fast if you want to see it before the rest of the structure falls under the stress.” She paused for a moment and Mikleo heard the dull roar of a crowd in the background before she spoke again. “Anyway, I have to go, I’ll see you soon!” 

 

“Oh, uh, okay, thanks-” Mikleo muttered before he was cut off by the click of the call ending. He decided he would go tell his colleague that he needed emergency time off and would head out immediately. Lefay wasn’t too close to Artorius’ Throne, but it was close enough that it’s collapse could disturb Sorey somehow, and that was something he could not allow. 

 

As he was dragging his suitcase down the stairs he was stopped by a now-familiar trio of students. “Oh, hey guys. Listen, there’s been an emergency and I have to leave right away, but I should be back before the course is over to help you with any questions about the final or anything,” he said hurriedly, hoping to hail a cab before it got dark. He tried to move past them, but an arm shot out and blocked his way.

 

“Wait! We have our conclusion!” one of them said excitedly. Mikleo blinked at her.

 

“Okay… that’s good but the course isn’t over for another couple of weeks and-”

 

“No, sir,” the boy cut him off, “Not that conclusion, we have our secondary conclusion!”

 

Mikleo paused for a moment before the realization hit him. He had been in such a rush to leave that he had completely forgotten about his challenge - and he had promised to hear their conclusions, after all. “Okay, well, I’m in a hurry, so make it fast,” he said, glancing out the window to check on the position of the sun. 

 

“Well, we did our research, and we conducted some interviews and accounts of Shepherd Sorey’s journey from third parties, and we-”

 

“Faster. Conclusions. Tell me the process later,” Mikleo cut him off. He felt bad, he really did, but he was also in a rush. 

 

“Er, uh, well. We concluded that our hypothesis was correct, and that you were in a romantic relationship with-”

 

“Ding ding ding,” Mikleo said, skirting around the three and heading for the door, “You’re correct, congratulations, tell me about your research process later, see you, goodbye!” He left with a hasty wave at the students and jogged to the road down the street where he could catch a ride. 

 

“Well… that was anticlimactic,” one of the girls said, still stunned. The other two agreed.

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

When Mikleo made it back to Lakehaven Heights he decided to skip visiting Lailah for now and head straight for Lefay. He arrived at the waterfall and found it in a similar condition to what he had imagined: a wide, flat piece of steel was redirecting the water away from the entrance, but police tape crisscrossed over the doorway in a way that was almost web-like. He pulled it aside easily and stepped into the dark entryway. It was immediately obvious which wall had collapsed - the gaping hole in front of him didn’t leave much room for questioning. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad that it wasn’t one of the higher levels, which could have come crashing down and shattered the pathways that littered the upper floors, or frightened that it was such a base level, which, given enough time, could very likely cause the collapse of the entire structure above it. He braced himself for the worst and stepped inside the newly opened room. 

 

As his foot crossed the threshold, something changed. It wasn’t a change that he could notice, but it was certainly noticeable to anyone outside the chambers. As his foot crossed the threshold, a pillar of light in the sky flickered, flickered, and went out. But how would he know that?

 

The Light of the Shepherd had gone out. 

 

The people of Lady Lake flew into a panic, anyone who had grown up with the Light could see immediately that it had vanished, and they saw this as a signal of the End Times. Lailah, along with her Shepherd subordinates, found herself suddenly overwhelmed with the task of calming an entire city. As she rushed out into the central courtyard she stopped and snagged the phone off the wall, hastily punching in numbers and crossing her fingers as the dial tone sounded. 

 

“Lailah,” Edna answered, “Is what we’re seeing true?”

 

“Yes!” she said excitedly, “The Light went out, that means Sorey is awake!”

 

“...Or dead,” Edna noted with an air of caution in her voice.

 

“Oh, don’t think that way Edna! Sorey is my Shepherd, if he were dead I would have felt it! But listen,” she paused, taking a breath and batting away some Shepherd students who were trying to ask her for advice, “I told Mikleo about the cave in at Lefay, and he said he would take a look at it, but I haven’t heard from him since then. I need you to check his dig site and see if he’s still there, okay? I have to go! I’ll see you soon!” With that she shoved the phone back into its holder and rushed out into the mob of anxious citizens. 

 

Edna sighed and shuffled her feet back and forth anxiously. “Come on Zaveid, we’re going Meebo hunting,” she said over her shoulder, voice somewhat anxious.

 

Zaveid walked over and put a hand on her shoulder, “Hey, you heard what Lailah said. Don’t be so worried, Sorey is awake now!”

 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she muttered in response. The two of them checked out of the small inn they were staying at and headed towards Mikleo’s site, nestled in the mountains of southern Rolance. Due to what Zaveid called the “miracles of human ingenuity,” travelling around the continent of Glenwood had become much, much easier. Instead of taking two days to reach the site, it only took about half of a day, which for some reason absolutely thrilled the wind seraph. He was in the middle of praising the automobile when they ran into a certain trio of college kids.

 

“Hey, you two! You really did know Professor Mikleo, didn’t you?”

 

Zaveid puffed out his chest in a way that signaled a long, boisterous reply, and Edna speared his foot with the tip of her umbrella. Ignoring his squawk of pain, Edna turned to the students. “Yes, we’re good friends of his, and we really need to know where he is right now,” she replied, straightforward and entirely business.

 

“Oh, ah, I’m afraid we can’t help you with that. He said there was an emergency and he left in a hurry.”

 

“Great, that’s actually the most helpful thing you could have said, thanks,” Edna said as she grabbed Zaveid’s wrist and dragged him back towards the cars. The students were shouting at her to wait, that they had questions, but there were more important things that needed to be attended to. Zaveid muttered about his foot under his breath all the way until he was seated in the back of a bus headed to Hyland.

 

The room that Mikleo had ventured into was vast and dark, and he briefly wished that he had brought Lailah with him so that she could light the torches that lined the walls. When his eyes adjusted he could make out what looked like another door on the wall opposite him and made his way towards it. As he stepped forward there was a flash of light, and suddenly he found himself back in the main entrance, body going rigid as he tried to orient himself. 

 

“Oh, for the love of-” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. How could he have forgotten the ridiculous eye traps that lined the walls of the place. He rolled his eyes despite the lack of anybody who could actually see him do it, tightened his ponytail with a tug, and trudged back into the chamber once again. Meanwhile, mere miles away, a certain Shepherd had found his way out of the labyrinth that was Artorius’ Throne, blinking the blinding sunlight out of his eyes. 

 

Sorey wasn’t entirely certain of where he was supposed to be going. When he had first woken up he had had no idea who he was, where he was, or what he was doing there, but then a rich, comforting voice had spoken to him. It introduced itself as Maotelus, and asked him if he remembered. Sorey shook his head and discovered that, while he might not be able to see whoever it was that was talking to him, they could certainly see him. They had hummed thoughtfully to themselves for a moment before Sorey was enveloped in warmth, thick and suffocating, as if he had been dropped into a hot springs. When it seceded and he could breathe once again his memories came flooding back to him, as clear as if he were reading the story of his life. It moved quickly, but he managed to capture nearly every single detail. As it came to a halt he felt a sharp pang in his chest; suddenly, but not surprisingly, his heart ached with how much he missed Mikleo.  

 

He had thanked Maotelus eagerly and repeatedly until the grand seraph practically had to force him to leave. But when Sorey asked where he could find his friends, Maotelus said he didn’t know - he had only just reclaimed control of the continent, and wouldn’t be able to pin down specific beings’ locations for a while. But Sorey was not deterred, he was sure he would be able to sense Mikleo when he was nearby. Until then, he just had to look in the most likely places. Those places, unfortunately, were scattered all over Glenwood. 

 

That was his thought process as he emerged from the castle, shielding his eyes against the sun. He looked down at the little village of Camlann. Nature had reclaimed it almost entirely: vines snaked up the side of tumbled down walls, tall grasses and weeds grew through the cobblestone and cracked it, and, upon closer inspection, animals had taken up residence in the corners of the old structures. Sorey felt oddly peaceful making his way through the abandoned city, but it made him nervous to find out how much time had truly passed. It was a beautiful day, though, so he decided to focus on the feeling of the sun on his skin and the breeze in his hair. 

 

He wondered if Mikleo would be in Elysia, but upon growing closer to the village he couldn’t feel his presence. As much as he loved his family in Elysia, he wanted to see Mikleo first, so he snuck around the perimeter of the city as best he could and made his way into the Aroundight Forest, silently promising them that he would see them soon. 

 

Mikleo had finally managed to make his way to what he assumed was the center of the room, cursing at the eyes on the wall the entire way. There were times when he was absolutely certain that there were none looking at him, and yet the second he moved he would be thrown back into the entrance chamber. After a while he had decided to take a break and eat some of the snacks he had hastily packed himself before leaving his dig. He did this petulantly, pouting like a child on the heavy stone slab which he had - once again - been transported back to. But a thorough survey of the room confirmed that there were no traps, and Mikleo finally let himself relax. 

 

The inner room looked to be some sort of sanctuary. Water ran down the walls, which Mikleo was surprised to see reflecting light in the darkness, though he found no plausible source. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, looming over him as he made his way along the path. Some of them had crashed to the floor, which Mikleo assumed had happened around the same time as the collapse of the wall. Whether that was true or not, he decided it would be better not to stand underneath them, if he could. With that in mind he tiptoed his way through the room, eyes shifting from the ceiling to the floor and back. 

 

Sorey felt Mikleo nearby before he even noticed the caution tape strung around the entrance to the Water Trial. He picked the bright yellow plastic up and looked at it curiously, holding his chin in his fingers as if he was looking at an ancient artifact. It just felt… odd that such a thing would be there. But he saw footprints heading into the doorway, and something in his gut told him it was Mikleo. 

 

The inside of the trial was familiar in a way that warmed Sorey’s heart, except for the vast, cavernous hole that seemed to have swallowed one side of the structure. He peered inside the mouth and squinted his eyes, but couldn’t make anything out of the inky blackness. Undeterred, he strode into the darkness, keeping his right hand on the wall beside him until his eyes could adjust. He found a door at the other end and pulled it open, greeted once again by the footprints he had been following. He traced their path once again, but soon noticed that they would disappear suddenly and reappear a few feet ahead. 

 

“Right!” he exclaimed, swinging his head around to look at the left hand wall of the chamber. There one of them was: those eyes that had caused Rose and him so much trouble. He smiled somewhat sadly at the memory before realizing that this time, he had no way to pass by them undetected. He pursed his lips together, taking a moment to think, when the obvious answer finally popped into his mind: he was a seraph now! He didn’t know what kind, but surely anything would help, right? He wasn’t really sure how the seraphim controlled and willed their artes, since he never had to do so while armatized and never thought to ask, assuming all seraphim were born knowing how to use their powers. So he decided to wing it.

 

He planted his feet firmly on the ground beneath him, crouching for balance, and interlaced his fingers in front of him. He took a deep breath and, screwing his eyes shut, concentrated on the obstacle in front of him - visualized it, willed something to happen. 

 

A loud pop, followed by a crash, startled him out of his focus and he jumped, staring at the source of the noise with wide eyes. The eye on the wall had shattered into hundreds of pieces; it still twitched with electricity, as if it were momentarily alive. Sorey blinked at it, immediately feeling bad about destroying such an important and well preserved piece of history. He sighed, accepting that this was his only course of action, and hoped that the rest of the structure had been taken care of enough that destroying a couple of traps in the basement wouldn’t be too big of a problem. Besides, he had to get to Mikleo, and Mikleo was further inside.

 

Mikleo’s journey around the central chamber was a slow one; he stopped to study every carving and elaborate scene portrayed on the cave-like walls, intent to document them before they were gone. But as he turned another corner he saw a gorgeous stone, some kind of jewel, he assumed, situated in a place of honor upon a large stone pedestal that, upon closer inspection via squinting his eyes, looked to be a monolith. He was enticed by the way it gleamed, opalesque despite the dim lighting, as if it itself was creating the shine. He found himself dumbfounded, and approached the monolith with a trance-like gait. 

  
And the floor crumbled beneath him. He let out a strangled gasp, which was jolted to a halt by a strong grip on his wrist. Mikleo blinked, staring at the chasm below him in confusion. He looked up, expecting to find Lailah or Uno, but instead was greeted with a relieved, familiar smile and emerald eyes that were overflowing with warmth and love. Mikleo was shocked, rigid, scared to believe his own eyes, but Sorey just smiled at him. He found himself smiling back as he was heaved onto solid ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I FINISHED IT YOU GUYS.   
> Ahem. Anyway. Wow, thanks so much for reading this- especially those of you who have been with me since the beginning! (I mean, I started this in January, right after I finished playing the game, and SO much has happened since then!) I truly hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. With that said, I'm pretty much certain that I'll be writing an epilogue to tie up a couple loose ends, but I can't be sure when that will be finished; it's only second week and I have a TON going on. So, bear with me!
> 
> Again, thanks so much for reading. I'm hoping to produce more fic, one multi-chapter for sure and possibly a couple of one-shots. Follow me on tumblr as christmas-hamlet to keep updated (and see my various Tales doodles which are steadily increasing in amount).


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome home, Sorey.

He toppled Sorey backwards with enough force to knock his head into the stone floor. The Shepherd flinched visibly, and Mikleo made a mental note to apologize later. But such things could wait.

 

Mikleo grabbed fistfulls of the old cloak that still hung over Sorey’s shoulders, now far too small for his broad stature, and took advantage of his momentary confusion to press their lips together, any sense of hesitation cast aside in the flow of time. It was rough, both of their lips chapped and neither of them experienced; it was chaste, and yet Mikleo poured eight centuries of emotions into it; it was nowhere close to perfect - but then, it was. It was Sorey, after all.

 

He was startled by a sudden movement from the body underneath him and pulled back, blinking at Sorey. The boy was laughing, his belly vibrating with the effort, and the familiar smile on his face brought Mikleo close to tears. 

 

“W-why are you laughing?” he asked, cursing his voice as it cracked. To his credit, Sorey managed to school his expression for the moment.

 

“It’s just that, the Mikleo I remember would never have done that on his own,” he said softly, lifting himself up onto his elbows, “A lot must have happened since I went to sleep to give you that much confidence. It suits you.”

 

Mikleo felt his face heat up and punched Sorey gently in the shoulder. Sorey’s smile only grew wider. “I missed you,” Mikleo mumbled to the floor past Sorey’s head, “You missed me too, right?”

 

Sorey sat up and wrapped his arms around Mikleo’s waist in one quick motion, squeezing tight enough to give Mikleo his answer. He buried his face into Mikleo’s neck, effectively suffocating himself in the long hair that draped itself there. In return, Mikleo pressed his nose to Sorey’s temple, breathing in the familiar scent that he had missed so terribly. They stayed like that for a long time, simply enjoying each other’s company after all those years. 

 

It was Sorey who finally pulled back, holding Mikleo at arms length for a moment before heaving an all-suffering sigh. Mikleo pulled his eyebrows together in confusion and Sorey let out a guilty laugh, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, it’s just… I’m kind of worried about how much the world has changed without me. Look at you. I feel so far behind” The pair sat in silence for a beat before Mikleo spoke.

 

“Sorey, because of all of the hard work that you put in, and everything that you accomplished, there are more Shepherds now than ever. Because of you, almost the entirety of the human race can see and communicate with Seraphim. The world has changed quite a bit, but it has changed for the better.” Mikleo moved his hands to cup either side of Sorey’s face, smiling gently, “It’s our dream, Sorey. We did it. You did it.

 

“I promise I won’t let you get left behind. If you want to lay low for a while before we reintroduce the great Shepherd Sorey to humanity, Elysia is still a seraphim sanctuary. I could teach you about the world and what’s changed since you went to sleep before you have to experience it for yourself. And I’m sure everybody would love to see you!” He offered Sorey his brightest smile and patted his cheeks lightly. “Don’t feel like you’re joining the world for the first time again, Sorey. You can relax now. I can teach you.”

 

Sorey nodded slowly, still mesmerized by this confident, assured Mikleo he was seeing. Then he smiled back, gently removing Mikleo’s hands from his cheeks and holding them out in front of him instead. The thank you was unspoken, but passed between the two of them nonetheless.

 

“Okay, Mikleo. I think I’d like to go see Kyme and the others.”

 

Mikleo nodded and stood, offering his hand to help Sorey up as well. They started making their way back towards the entrance and were halfway down the winding pathway when Mikleo spoke. “I wonder if the earthquake that took down the wall compromised the stability of the altar floor as well,” he commented, nearly to himself. Sorey hummed in thought beside him.

 

“I think you’re just trying to cover for the fact that you forgot to check for traps,” he said teasingly. 

 

“Well,” Mikleo gasped in mock-horror, “Forgive me for thinking that two-dozen eye portals, on top of the fact that this chamber was completely sealed up until yesterday, would be seen as a sufficient amount of protection!” He threw a jab at Sorey’s ribs for good measure before something dawned on him. Without even breaking their stride he caught Sorey’s hand before he could return the gesture, effectively thwarting his counter-attack and gaining his attention at the same time. “About those eye traps…” he muttered, slowing the two of them to a halt and surveying the room. Sorey looked instantly guilty, and Mikleo’s jaw dropped open.

 

“You didn’t!” he hissed quietly, as if afraid that someone would overhear them.

 

“If I hadn’t gotten rid of them then you would have fallen down that hole!” Sorey defended. Mikleo continued to gape at him. “Besides,” Sorey continued, intent to get himself off the hook, “There are countless other portals throughout the shrine! Incapacitating a few down here doesn’t really matter as long as those ones stay intact, right?”

 

“Incapacitating!” Mikleo repeated with a grin. “You didn’t incapacitate them, you destroyed them, Sorey!” The expression on his face, however, told Sorey that he was forgiven. His chest, where it had been puffed up in an attempt to protect his pride, visibly deflated.

 

“It’s not like I wanted to destroy them,” he sighed, taking Mikleo’s hand in his own and urging him along to the exit, “but I knew I needed to get past them, and I didn’t really have the option of making a water shield, considering I didn’t have a water seraph on hand.”

 

Mikleo reached up with the hand not currently occupied and ruffled Sorey’s hair. It stuck up in all directions and Sorey groaned. “I’m messing with you,” Mikleo smirked at him. They walked on in comfortable silence until they were stepping out of the hidden corridor and into the main chamber. Sorey stopped them when they reached the concrete slab where the eyes transported their victims.

 

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” he laughed, remembering Rose’s sheer frustration and Mikleo’s pleads for her to ‘Stay in the damn bubble, goddamnit!’ Mikleo made a show of shivering at the thought of it. 

 

While they were stopped momentarily, and before they began their journey to Elysia, Mikleo decided to ask the question that had been weighing on him ever since Sorey pulled him out of the sinkhole. “So, you are… You’re a, uh…” Ah, crap. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

 

Sorey raised his eyebrows at him. “Am I a seraph? That’s what you’re asking, right?” he chuckled, “No, I just pulverized the seraphically-enhanced stone walls with my bare fists, of course.”

 

“Ah, of course,” Mikleo rolled his eyes in return, suppressing the wave of relief that washed over him at the knowledge that Sorey was no longer human. He felt truly blessed by Maotelus at that moment. The thought that he would have the rest of his life to spend with Sorey, instead of just the next 80 years and then an eternity without him - it was the only thing he had asked for since Sorey went to sleep.  

 

When Sorey spoke again his voice was quieter. “I’m… I’m just like Gramps,” he said haltingly, recalling the tragedy of the elder seraph’s death, still painfully fresh in his mind. “I’m a lightning seraph.”

 

“He would be proud,” Mikleo responded softly, aware that, for Sorey, Gramps’ death was practically yesterday. He hadn’t had the time to properly mourn anybody, in reality. Mikleo decided that for now, he wouldn’t weigh Sorey down with any more sadness. “I’m proud of you, Sorey,” he added for good measure.

 

Sorey was smiling at him, but his eyes were sad. Mikleo, in a desperate attempt to keep his mind off of such things, tackled Sorey into the water and began mercilessly attacking his ribcage with his fingers. They could deal with their grief later. And besides, he had missed Sorey’s laughter something fierce.

 

By the time the two of them stepped outside the sun was setting behind Lady Lake, throwing shades of orange and purple against the water below and the clouds above. Mikleo turned to fix the caution tape over the entrance that he had cast aside earlier, worried about the security of the structure after the wall had collapsed, the floor had tried to swallow him, and Sorey had accidentally littered the basement with weak points. When he was satisfied he turned back to Sorey and noticed him transfixed by the sunset, mouth slightly agape and eyes glittering like a kid’s. It reminded Mikleo of when the two of them had first left Elysia in search of Alisha. 

 

It was comforting that, centuries later, the sunset remained the same. 

 

It was equally comforting that, centuries later, Sorey still stared at it with the same awe.

 

Mikleo opened his mouth to speak when a shout rang out and shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

“Sheps! Sheps! Holy shit!” came bellowing up from the valley below them. Mikleo pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. For the love of-

 

“Zaveid!” Sorey bellowed from beside him before taking off on a spring down the hill. Mikleo, momentarily stunned, pondered everything he had ever done wrong in his entire life to deserve this. 

 

The wind seraph and his former Shepherd met about halfway down the hillside, Sorey jumping at him the moment he was within range and succeeding in taking both of them to the ground. Behind them Mikleo saw Lailah and Edna, the former giggling at Zaveid’s antics while the latter heaved a deep sigh - though Mikleo saw that she was smiling. Mikleo heaved a sigh as well, making a show of rolling his eyes at Zaveid and Sorey’s antics. By the time the two parties met in the middle Zaveid and Sorey had extracted themselves from one another and Zaveid was excitedly explaining how “hot” the “modern babes” are.

 

Sorey was smiling at him politely, sheepishly rubbing back of his neck with one hand. Mikleo could see the twitch in Sorey’s smile that showed the effort he put in to schooling his expression and laughed, ruffling his hair when he came to a stop just behind him. Sorey looked up and beamed at him, his eyes sparkling. Mikleo thought he might have a heart attack right then and there. He shook his head and looked upwards instead.

 

The Shepherd’s light, as Mikleo had expected, had disappeared from the sky. In place of the brilliant column was the pale blue background of the surrounding sky. A few stray clouds passed through his field of vision as he stared. It was strange, after so many years, to be met with a blank, clear sky over Camlann. He wondered how the local humans were reacting. None of them were alive before the light column was erected, after all. It must seem like some terrible omen. And yet…

 

It wasn’t.

 

He tore his gaze away from the sky and let his eyes wander over his companions instead. Sorey and Zaveid now stood, and Lailah had latched herself around Sorey’s torso, pinning his arms to his sides with her hug. Sorey was laughing, swaying back and forth as Lailah tried her damndest to swing him from side to side. Zaveid made a joke and tried to nudge Edna with his elbow, an effort for which he was rewarded with a sharp umbrella to the side instead. It was almost as if no time had passed, like the last eight hundred years hadn’t even happened. The wave of nostalgia hit Mikleo like a truck. 

 

“So what’s the plan, Sheps?” Zaveid asked when Lailah finally let Sorey go. Sorey brought a finger up to his chin, pausing to think for a moment, before looking at Mikleo.

 

“Well, I think we had decided to go back to Elysia for a while. Mikleo says a lot has changed since I went to sleep, so I don’t know if jumping right into the heart of the city at Lady Lake would be a good idea.” He chuckled to himself a little before continuing, “I think it might even be a little more culture shock than going to the human world for the first time!” The grin he shot at Mikleo could melt the polar ice caps. Gods, he had missed that smile.

 

Zaveid was about to comment when Lailah cut him off, clapping her hands together.

 

“Oh, what a good idea! You can read Mikleo’s books! He wrote them for you, after all!”

 

Mikleo blushed. “It wasn’t just for him,” he mumbled under his breath. 

 

Sorey was looking at him with genuine admiration and pride.  “Wow! You wrote books, Mikleo? That’s so cool! I can’t wait to read them, I’ll bet they’re better than the Celestial Record, since you wrote them.” Mikleo felt himself flush even deeper. 

 

“He never would have published them without me,” Edna said smugly, looking up at Mikleo with haughty pride. “He didn’t want to go through the effort. He didn’t think they would be good enough.”

 

“That’s not - Anyway!” Mikleo started before they could stray any further, “Like Sorey said, we’re heading up to Elysia for a little while so Sorey can get his bearings. He needs to practice his artes, too, and I wouldn’t want him to damage anything while he’s doing it.”

 

“His artes!” Lailah gasped, “Sorey! What kind of seraph are you?” Then, more to herself, she added “I can’t believe we didn’t even ask. Shame on us.”

 

Mikleo felt his own chest puff up with pride, “He’s a lightning seraph, like Gramps!”

 

Sorey blushed a little and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah, well, I don’t really know how to use it yet. I just needed to get rid of some traps back in Lefay…”

 

“Oh, that’s lovely Sorey! He would be so proud!” Lailah beamed at him. He did his best to smile gratefully at her. Mikleo caught the uncomfortable look in his eye and set a steadying hand on his shoulder. 

 

“That’s another reason we would like to go back to Elysia,” Mikleo said, rubbing at Sorey’s shoulder in a way that he hoped was comforting. “We’d like to pay our respects to Gramps and visit our family.” He hoped they would get the hint that they would like to do said visit by themselves. He enjoyed having them around, of course, but he could tell that Sorey needed some time to mull things over. He knew from experience how difficult it is to deal with death.

 

Edna picked up on the implications immediately. “That’s a good idea. Meanwhile, Lailah, Zaveid, and I will do damage control with the humans. We’ll be like Sorey’s PR team. I’m already practically your agent,” she directed the last sentence at Mikleo, “So I might as well cover O Great Shepherd Sorey as well.”

 

Zaveid moved to clap Sorey on the back and grinned widely, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t worry Sheps, I’ll make you out as quite the ladies man.” He stepped back and winked at him. Sorey only laughed, eyes shifting to Mikleo as he conversed quietly with Lailah. Edna rolled her eyes at him.

 

Mikleo and Lailah stepped away from one another with a brief hug and a promise to meet up again soon. The sky was almost entirely dark now, stars peeking through the velvet curtain one by one. The party said their goodbyes, and with that Mikleo and Sorey headed back up the hill towards Aroundight Forest. When the two of them were past Lefay, far from anyone who might notice, Sorey slipped his hand smoothly into Mikleo’s own. Mikleo smiled at him and squeezed his hand in return, threading their fingers together easily. Their palms melded together as if they were made just for each other, the two of them falling into step with one another as they made their way to the entrance of the forest path.

  
And so they made their way home, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I promised an epilogue when I posted the last chapter, but I've never written an epilogue to anything ever and I had no idea how to do so. So, huge shout out to @anchovyh for helping me whittle it down to an actual epilogue instead of a poorly thought out sequel. Anyway... yeah. Much Love.


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